Ice Age: A Soul Adrift
by Elisheva P
Summary: Started before IA4 was released as my version of the then upcoming movie. Even though it was not finished before IA4 released I decided to continue it. This story focuses on Diego and Shira, but gives a lot of time to many other characters as well. They all have journeys to make and will discover just how strong they are. See my profile for more details.
1. Chapter 1

Ice Age: A Soul Adrift

By: Elisheva P.

Chapter 1: The Worst Bad Dream

White out. Good thing she didn't need her eyes. She closed them tightly, trying to protect them from the blustering wind that sliced into her lungs and bit at her coat. She breathed deeply, an activity that seemed both deadly and mysterious all at once. The wind gave and took her breath at will, forcing the chill air into her body one moment, and stealing it away the next, leaving her to gasp for more. She had to. The scent was a few days old, at least two, but it was still good and getting stronger. Her pack was here. Something began to seem very wrong though. Something had happened. It became harder to indentify the individual scents of her pack mates, which became scattered and erratic as if they had been startled or ambushed. Separated somehow. Other scents were intermingled with the familiar tiger scent. Some were recognizable, some where not. Her teeth bared and her ears flattened as she caught one though. Human scent.

An angry growl welled up in her throat, however it quickly turned to another emotion, one simpler than anger. Sadness. Her eyes were already watery; a natural reaction to the fierce winter wind, but now tears began to fall. They were blown from her face and were cold before they even reached her back, freezing in small splashes on her grey fur. How would she ever find them now? Her rudimentary tracking skills had barely brought her this far. This confusion of scents was now beyond her. She walked forward stiffly, unsure of where to go next. Barely discernible, dark cliffs appeared ahead and her path began to ascend steeply. Still not willing to give up she continued her search. Faint scents still lingered in the area and her eyesight began to be more useful as the wind became blocked by jagged, towering cliffs on either side, winding their way up a small mountain. Soon the female saber toothed tiger found herself on an open platform, lending a view of the pass below. The wind and snow howled around her, but could not touch her due to more cliffs on the mountain's north face. An odd calm was created around her, sharpening her hearing. A cracking sound came to her senses and she tensed, one ear forward and one ear back. The cracking evolved into a muffled rumble. The load of snow was overcoming a ledge far above. The tigress summoned her strength and scrambled for shelter. There wasn't much. The outcrop she huddled under would not save her if the cascade of snow grew too powerful before engulfing the shelf that had given her protection from the elements. "Had given" obviously being past tense. She curled up, gripping the rocks under her as they started to shake. Why had she lingered someplace so exposed to this danger? The rocks above her held as an icy wave buried her. The snow loosed her grip on the uneven ground. She was sliding. Her claws dug deeper. Her paws had never felt so cold. An eerie silence found her still clinging for life. She was a few feet removed from her "shelter" and covered with snow, otherwise unharmed. Keeping her mind from pondering the consequences of a larger avalanche she waded through the drift.

A sharp, stiff object brushed against her left foreleg. Instinctively her right paw grabbed at it. She froze internally. Heart stopped. No breath. Eyes unseeing. She was holding a paw, a paw that she knew.

Frantic digging revealed the body. She shakily looked away, intense pain racking her frame; quiet sobs seeping from her soul. Lying before her, contorted in death, was her brother. Did he die here? Or did the snow bring him down from a higher grave? There were wounds on his side and face. They were too old for her to tell what caused them, other than he had been in some sort of struggle. Someone did this to him. What of the rest of her pack? She would probably never know. Sullenly pushing snow back over her brother's face, she reburied him. He would rest here now. She could not.

She told herself that she must get out of the wind, but she half didn't want to. If only she could wander in this limbo forever and not have to face the truth, that she was now alone. It was nothing new, but it got harder every time. Exhausted, she lay down, uncaring where she was, somewhere on the North side of the mountain, descending. She had put distance between herself and the discovery of a few hours ago. It was dark now. Placing her head on her front paws her bright, azure eyes gazed up at the sky, which was beginning to clear. A shape in the stars became visible. It looked like the two large teeth of a saber. It was her brother's favorite. Everything had been teeth and claws to him-at least when he was trying to be bravado or irritating. She knew his other side though. She continued looking at the stars. Some things you cannot distance yourself from, even things as far as the sky. As she slipped into a dreamless sleep the wind shifted. A scent, no, a myriad of scents became clearer. Her brother's killers.

"Shira…," He called to her.

"Shira!"

"SHIRA!"

She woke with a start, a growl escaping from her chest. She was inwardly relieved to find she was not alone in the snow; instead, she was safe and sound on the boat she now called home. However, she was unhappy so find a skeletal sword pointed at her.

"Get that out of my face before I snap it in two."

"Jeez, take it easy! If Gutt-"

"Don't you mean, _Captain_ Gutt, Chip?"

Chip rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.

"If _Captain_ Gutt knew you were sleeping this late he would give it to you good! You should be glad I'm the one poking things in your face and not him."

"I know, I know…thanks…sorry…I was…"

"Dreaming again?"

"It's not really a dream."

"Sometimes the past is the worst bad dream you can have."

The scruffy hare bounded off, leaving the groggy tigress to wake fully, shouting something about "company sighted" over his shoulder. At times he was strangely perceptive. Thoughts of her crewmate suddenly stopped. The hair on her back stood on end and adrenaline rushed through her body, making her feel fierce, brave, and beautiful. In her dreams, or her past, whichever, when she woke the scent of her enemies faded, no longer a reality, a part of her dream and past she could never remember. This morning was different. This scent was real. That same, well, almost, scent from that mountain years ago. The ocean breeze carried it to her. They were near.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes:

First...I want to thank everyone sooo much for your reviews, I am very glad you enjoyed my last chapter. You are all wonderful and I really liked reading your feedback. I means a lot to me. Constructive criticism is welcome, one thing I know I struggle with at times in writing is proper tense. =/

Second...I had intended for this next chapter to be a bit longer as the last one was kind of short. I was going to have Chapter 2 move a little faster/have more happen, but I got side tracked with Gutt's character once I actually started writing. He's the villain so I think he deserves the time. Then I came to a good stopping point and decided to go ahead and end this chapter. So sorry about the length but the trade off is you get to read it sooner. :) So I promise the plot will get going a bit more in chapter 3!

Third...as is noted in my profile none of these characters are mine they all belong to Blue Sky Studios/Fox. I came up with names for some that I don't know but I still don't own them. I don't really plan on any original characters because the cast is already fairly large.

A couple fun facts: 1) The constellation that is Shira's brother's favorite we know as Cassiopeia, and it looks like a big W in the Northern sky in the Northern Hemisphere. 2) Orlog means "fate" in Icelandic. :D

Until next time and again thank you all so much! Enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 2: The Villain is Ready<p>

Shira shook herself and made her way to the front of the large chunk of ice that was Gutt's ship. It was crudely hewn, but Gutt assured his crew that it resembled boats he had seen human's build once. In fact, he rather thought the _Orlog_ was better. The only occasions on which Shira ever caught a flicker of warmth in Gutt's cool and calculating eyes were when he stopped to admire his work. When he ran his alarmingly hand-like paws along the ship's stern, or when he knocked a flexible appendage against the mast, smiling at its strength. The primitive orangutan seemed to feel that he had given it this strength in building it. He had bestowed it. He was the master. Gutt's fetish for human achievements was a dangerous game to Shira, who both feared and despised the creatures. His closeness to them often awoke these same feelings toward her captain. She sometimes pondered over these furtive warnings in her being, but an over-arching loyalty kept them at bay. Over the years her captain's promises of a home and protection had not worn thin. In return she was obedient and hard working, especially obedient, since she was, after all, a female, and therefore had no real place on a boat to begin with. This fact she was frequently reminded of. A fact she hated. His attitude was not going to change. This was how it was supposed to be, according to his observation of human customs, which happened to fit nicely with his own view of how his world should be run. Being the only female on board gave Shira the singular experience of honor and humiliation all at once.

The morning was uncommonly dark and foggy, but she could just make out that the whole rest of the crew was already assembled, with Gutt issuing out orders in a manner more silent than usual. He turned as she approached.

"Glad to see you awake."

"What is going on?"

"We are beginning to see the affects of that…ominous storm of a few days past."

Shira eyed the ubiquitous fog skeptically.

"Some castaways are…coming to join us. Shira, I have a job for you. See Tim as you will be working with him. I am not explaining it again."

His eyes. They were threatening, darting around with a lustful glint. Something about these "castaways" tremendously intrigued and excited him. It was not a blood lust. Gutt had some other purpose in wait for the strangers. There was always a purpose, always an end in mind with him. Shira felt herself shiver as she wondered what it could be. The confusing scent still blew across the ship, adding to her apprehension. Tim motioned to her. She cringed. Partnering with Tim meant that water was going to be involved. He began a nervous explanation and pointed one of his blubbery flippers to the left and South of the Ship's current forward direction.

"Ok…Shira…you are going to come with me. Well. Somewhere over there, not too far off, is a piece of ice where some animals are stranded. That's what Spi says anyway. Now, Cap'n is worried about one of them giving trouble…so I'm going to help. Err. Help you distract 'em. Got it?

"No."

Tim looked disappointed.

"How is this supposed to work, exactly?"

"Well. You are going to come with me. We will go to the far side of their little ice floaty…and…I'll drop you off."

"On their ice?"

"No…um…in the water?"

"I can't swim!"

"I know…that's why I'll be there."

"You just said you were going to "drop me off," as in leave me there!"

"But I won't be far!"

"Comforting, but unnecessary. Distract them yourself."

Shira had barely turned when the white under feathers of outspread wings filled her vision and a raspy voice filled her ears. Spi. The gull landed on her front paws.

"Going somewhere?"

"I want to speak to the Captain."

"I'm sure you do. I'm also sure that he has his reasons. If you think yours are _better_, go right ahead."

"I just want to know why I have to be doing this. Tim wasn't exactly resourceful."

A menacing shadow suddenly loomed overhead. Spi's webbed feet gripped her paws tighter as he ducked Gutt's massive head and long, wiry beard.

"Everyone knows just what I want them to know. All that they need to know. Not more. Not less."

He leaned closer.

"Don't waste my time."

Shira stared back for a moment before turning away, dislodging Spi, who took off with a squawk.

"Shira, don't worry…I won't be far. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Really, water isn't so bad."

"Easy for an elephant seal to say."

"Please…just…please remember to keep your claws on the inside while I swim over."

Shira smiled. Tim really was the most genuine character in the motley crew, and one of the few she actually considered a friend. She patted his shoulder with a padded paw.

"Of course."

It was easier said than done. He was courteous and did not dive under, which would have been both faster and stealthier but would have made it nearly impossible for Shira to hold on. Even so, she found her paws slipping on his impossible, ungraspable skin. This caused much unneeded splashing, which in turn caused the salty water to sting her eyes and find its way down her throat. Consequently there was much sputtering on Shira's part, which released a waterfall of worries from Tim's mouth. They were going to be found out. They were going to ruin the plan. Gutt was going to be in a rage.

"Shut-up, you're making more noise than if I were drowning and calling for help!" Shira hissed, yet again sliding down Tim's rotund side.

"That's what you will be doing in a minute."

The aquatic mammal turned sharply, loosening her already weak grasp on his body. He dove. She was alone. A small swell raised her up and set her back down. The ocean around was then still. Quite. Dark. The sky was no different. Shira felt herself beginning to sink. The ride over had begun to lift her spirits, she was curious, after all, about these strangers, but more so she was keen to find the connection to her brother. If Gutt's plot, however depraved it might be, aligned with her longing for justice, for answers, so be it. Now she realized Gutt's plan required her to become half drowned. She flailed her paws wildly, grappling the water that gave no hold. Again she caught that scent, much stronger than before. It was not quite the same as she had remembered. Perhaps it was just in her dream. Maybe this other scent really had no relevance. Maybe she had just swallowed too much salt water. Another swell came through. Her head did not stay above this time. She had to make this worth it. She had to know for sure. As she forced her head back above the water, Tim's last words to her came to mind. She called for help.

Gutt stood proudly as he felt she ship inching closer to their target. The rest of the crew, well, minus two, was rowing with all the stealth they could muster. They were obedient. He was confident. He knew his opponents. Since Spi's discovery of the previous evening during his usual scouting, Gutt had come to know them through the eyes of the faithful gull. Spi had flown back and forth with updates and observations, whispering his findings in the dark to the conniving ape. Gutt liked what he heard. Very much indeed. It was almost too perfect. His sly smile greeted the breeze and he licked dry his lips upon smelling it. He had calculated everything. Strengths. Weaknesses. Possible outcomes. They were all good to him. He was ready.

However, there is a fact or two he did not consider, details absent from his figures. Under the circumstances though he really cannot be at fault for any short sight. Even without that knowledge the villain is ready. He has waited long enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes:

Many, many thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/ put my story in their alerts. I'm really honored that you like it.

Ok Chapter 3! I meant for this to be up a couple days ago actually, darn school! Anyway I hope you enjoy. When I said I'm a perfectionist with my writing I wasn't joking. I think I've deleted this chapter out of my story three times because I spotted a typo or remembered something to add. Enough of this madness! Here it is!

Once again I had intended for this to move a little faster but got caught up in some character development. :) The way I see it is first you have to care about the characters before too much happens to them, otherwise you really won't care what happens to them anyway. That's how I feel when I read...

A quick note on a previous author's note: there actually will be some original characters necessary to some character's back stories/development, though they won't ever actually appear except parts of dreams/flashbacks/memories. For whatever reason this completely left my mind when I said there would be no original characters.

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><p>Chapter 3: The Optimist, the Realist, and the Pessimist<p>

Diego lay on the ice, trying to use the cold to numb the pain in his ribcage. There was a small fire some distance away. Its happy crackling did not infect those that it warmed. Except maybe Sid. Diego had to hand it to the sloth, Sid's go lucky nature was rarely dampened. Sid the silver lining. He was currently humming an unidentifiable ditty while rubbing dry the wisteria fur of his elderly grandmother. She merely sat there and blinked bulbous eyes. It was the first time there had been silence that day, if Sid's melodic idiosyncrasy was discounted. Everything had to be a battle with Maggy. Her senses were failing her, her independence slipping away. The other night's violent storm had only aggravated the fragile sloth's condition. At first Diego found himself slightly amused at the old coot's antics. Being dependant was humiliating, but he was unaware that sloths could posses…_pride_. Maggy didn't want to be babied. She wanted to clean herself. She wanted to feed herself. She wanted to walk by herself. When asked about the stick that one shaky claw always grasped for this purpose she would insist that sticks were very in fashion this season. So what if fashion was dumb, who was she to argue with it? Diego was unsure whether she caught on when he chimed in that fashion must be blind too, but communication had gone downhill from there. Maggy fought Sid's attempts at care giving tooth and nail, using volume as necessary. She would groom herself. She would find her own food. She would walk by herself. She could see just fine…and her adventure off the edge of their icy coracle yesterday was intentional! All naysayers were melting popsicles in her book. That was when Manny, tons more in weight, and many decibels higher in volume, had enough. Diego agreed. Now the temporarily chided sloth allowed Sid to keep her warm and dry. He didn't want her catching cold from the damp fog that was delaying the sun's arrival that morning. Diego refrained from making the observation that if, after storms, earthquakes, and taking a dip in the ocean, Granny was unscathed, a little fog wasn't going to hurt her. Diego put a tawny paw to his eye, which still smarted from an encounter with Maggy and her "fashion sense." The saber-toothed tiger wished at times that he had not found her in that broken stump. Curiosity killed the…

His thoughts went elsewhere. A small shadow swooped overhead for a brief moment. Again. Diego had the odd feeling that they were being tracked. By a bird? Possibly. Most of the birds Diego had ever encountered were idiotic creatures, dodos coming to mind readily. However, they appeared to fancy themselves as important, and intelligent, bending reality to justify this erroneous view of themselves. He had witnessed birds hoard melons to show their superior survival skills. He had seen birds try their wings at migration control, disaster response, musical numbers, and menu planning. The saber shuttered with disgust. Who knows what glorious part in the world this dull beak thought he was playing. Still Diego was uneasy. He didn't like being watched, and he didn't like not knowing why. The bird must come from somewhere, and it wasn't land.

"Hey, Manny. That bird flew over again."

The wooly mammoth ignored his friend. Sid's humming paused.

"Wwant to talk about it Manny? Ol' buddy?"

Manny's response was to turn his back on their concerns and walk out of sight. The clear, relatively even ice around the fire was only a corner of the "island," as Sid was calling it. It was really a misplaced piece of land. Part of a continent as a grain of sand is to the beach. Ice, rock, dirt. Earth. The trees that managed to stay intact were living still. The events of two nights past were fuzzy to Diego. A violent storm. Cracking ground. Monstrous waves. Coming out of a blackened mind just thankful to be alive, even more thankful that he wasn't alone. They were together. Together, but incomplete. As strange as this heard of one mammoth, two sloths, and a tiger was, it was only half the story. Manny's mate, Ellie, their daughter, and two possums were nowhere to be found. As the shock of it all began to wear off, Manny withdrew further into himself. His family was gone. Diego did not know how to reach out to him. He couldn't just punch him on the shoulder and make light of it. Manny hadn't been so remote since Diego first met him. Every time your heart breaks, it breaks a little harder, a little deeper. This was the second family lost to Manny. Convinced it could never happen again he had become closed off from the world, guarding his heart, and guarding the memory of his first mate and son. This was the Manny whom Diego and Sid met, so many years ago. Then Ellie came along. The memories Diego had of watching his friend's transformation after that meeting were fond ones. Watching the "moody mammoth" blush and squirm at Sid's courtship advice, soften when faced with the innocent and playful shemmoth, and finally, become a proud, overprotective parent once more. His daughter, Peaches, was growing into a beautiful adolescent, bringing the usual set of problems that Manny faced head on. Even so the dark mammoth could still claim that the feelings of "happy" and "content" where his. Now they were lost once more. There was still a hope of finding the others, Diego knew, but he also knew that Manny's melancholic nature was not going to give that hope much weight. Sid was an optimist, Diego a realist, and Manny a pessimist. The tiger was jerked from his thoughts.

"Diego! I think I heard something!"

Sid waddled to the edge of the ice, cautioning Granny to stay put. Diego padded over, ears erect, hazel eyes scanning the fog. It was impenetrable.

"Uh, what did it sound like?"

"Like…like a—"

A call for help drifted in from the darkness. The thickness of the air made the distance and exact direction hard to determine. Diego was fairly certain it came from the South, the side of the "island" Sid called him over to. He was pretty sure it was South anyway. No sky or land put the tiger at a loss somewhat. As another cry came to their ears Manny thundered over. His eyes were wide as he stared out at the sea.

"It sounds like a girl."

Diego quickly took in the situation. He hated water, but he could swim. They all could. Sid's clumsy nature was not one to be counted on. Manny was beginning to take a last grasp at a hope that the voice could belong to not just any girl, but one of his girls. If that were not the case Manny would be worse than before. Diego decided to protect the mammoth from this hurt as much as he could.

"I'll go check it out. Last time someone went overboard Sid did the honors."

"You sure?"

Diego climbed down into the shadows, disappearing form sight. Besides, who knows what really could be out here. Claw. Kick. Claw. Kick. He mumbled his swimming lesson etiquette to himself. It could be an animal they didn't want to meet, or help. Claw. Kick. He grinned to himself. It could be…lunch. His claws cut through the water. Diego was starving. There was a limited amount of food for the herbivores in the form of leaves, bark, even a little fruit, but nothing for the carnivorous cat. Save one, nasty beached fish found in the ice yesterday. The tiger was not accustomed to seafood. Claw. Kick. Kick again. The call came out once more, followed by a garbled complaint. Diego answered.

"Hey! Err…you ok out there?"

"No! I…I can't swim!"

"Just keep your head above the water. I'll come out to you, just don't freak out. Keep talking to me…uh…Marco?"

"I _hate_ Captain Marco."

"Fine. You can be Polo. I don't care if you hate me."

"I hope you're sure about that."

The voice was much closer now. Diego wondered. Why couldn't he make anything out? What was he looking for anyway?

"Mind giving a little description? It's kinda hard to see out here."

"I'm grey."

"That's…real helpful."

"If you came out here to mock me…then get lost! I can drown by myself…you certainly don't need to wait around for it to happen!"

The voice was becoming labored. Diego could hear splashing and struck out towards it. His stomach growled. Nothing makes you hungry like swimming.

"No, it's obvious you are doing a fine job of drowning by yourself. I did not waste all this energy to come out in this light-forsaken murk to mock you! Though I think it is only fair to warn you, when I find you…if there is one ungrateful bone in your body, and you are any smaller than a water buffalo, I'm going to eat…"

He left his tirade unfinished. There, suddenly, almost right at his nose, was the owner of the mysterious voice. A grey tigress was struggling to keep her face out of the water, her eyes were closed, a shield against the salt. Diego gingerly put a paw under her chin to help her clear the water, giving her a moment to relax. A wave of self-consciousness washed over him as she wrapped her paws around his foreleg in an effort to steady herself and regain her breath. His ears fell limp in embarrassment. Her eyes opened as she sensed his paw tense with uncertainty. Their blue was the only color in the misty word that surrounded Diego. The fog hung about them in a dark embrace, chalky wisps born of the gentle wind being the only break in its monotony. The water remained a calm slate, neutral in this meeting. No waves interrupted, no currents pulled them to a different coarse. The female saber eyed Diego curiously.

"Are you still going to eat me?"

"Report, Spi."

"Captain…I'm afraid there is a little bit of a problem. The mammoth. The mammoth didn't go into the water. The tiger did."

"He can swim?"

"Apparently. Sir…I apologize…in all my observations I did not see anything to indicate—"

"We needed the mammoth in the water. It is the only way we are going to have an advantage to control him."

"Captain Gutt, I—"

"Shut-up! Are they still directly ahead?"

"Yes…"

"Good then. You and Tim continue to monitor Shira and this…other saber. You will know when to move in and take action."

Gutt turned to the rest of the ship.

"There is a slight change in plan. Full speed ahead. Quietly now, lads. Am I yelling? If the mammoth won't swim voluntarily, we'll just have to give him a little encouragement."

Three pairs of eyes and ears strained themselves. They could hear Diego communicating with someone. A muffled argument.

"You coulda sent me out there to cause that ruckus!"

Sid chuckled at his Grandmother's commentary.

"Granny, you know it's not fashionable to argue."

"It is if you win!"

Maggy found her grandson's moist nose pressed against her cheek as he snuggled up to her. Her turbulent disposition was both intimidating and endearing to him. Granny stood the test of time. She inhabited his every memory of childhood. She taught him to recognize when the rare fruits produced by their home's ephemeral springtime were perfectly ripe. He was cautioned against sleeping on dead branches, as they were treacherous. She taught him to survive, in more ways than one. Sid could recall many a life lesson in Granny's stories. Much of her chattering concerned how as a young sloth she wished for a life of adventure. In the end she settled instead for a quite living, raising her own family. What she did not accomplish herself she always encouraged her children to do, to go find themselves out in that big ol' world. How she wished her daughter, Sid's mother, had not taken her words to heart. In the end Maggy held onto a child that was not her own, a child abandoned for a "greater cause." Laboring to instruct him she felt to be fair payment. Had not her philosophy justified his neglect? No. Finding yourself did not mean exalting yourself above others, others who needed you. Still the guilt did not cease to torture her conscience. Every story she told the young Sid concluded with the same admonishment: if you love someone, take care of them, regardless of self. The truth. Simple. Unmovable. This truth locked itself into Sid's otherwise non-committal character. It flowed into his interactions with his friends, his grandmother, and most of all, the young and innocent, regardless of species, even be it human or dinosaur. He loved them. He would take care of them.

Manny knew this rescue operation was not taking nearly as long as it felt. It felt like eons. He was beginning to worry, shifting his weight and swaying his long trunk from side to side, keeping some kind of time. Diego could no longer be heard. The mammoth contemplated going after him. He stepped closer to the edge of the ice. He lost his footing, abruptly thrown forward. There was an ear splitting crash as their "island," their refuge, disintegrated around him, some pieces becoming airborne…exploding? There was no heat. The water was cold. He ducked underneath to avoid the icy shrapnel. The mammoth held a trunk tip aloft to breath, waiting for the disturbance to subside. When his head came above he was unprepared for what he would be faced with. The grief that clung to his heart would have to be cast away if he was to survive the next events, the grand scheme in which he would be a forced player, a key one. Choices face everyone. Manny's, while still muddled within his feelings, is rapidly being made plain. His grief, or his friends?


	4. Chapter 4

Author's notes:

Sorry for the wait this week was kinda crazy! Here is Chapter 4, and thank you so, so much for your reviews of the previous chapter. You don't know how much I appreciate the encouragement and that fact that you like my story and continue to read it. Also I will start personally responding to the reviews...I didn't see that I could before...because I'm that slow sometimes. I apologize if there are any typos or anything I missed. Anyway I really, really hope you enjoy reading it! Have a great weekend

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><p>Chapter 4: Known and Unknown<p>

He felt bad. Really, really bad. Like a monster. Tim dared to creep closer, his powerful tail propelling him through the water. As if he were a ship himself. Shira's pathetic pleas to the darkness began to retreat into silence, and then abruptly regrouped to address, to answer, then foolishly taunt it. She was speaking to someone. Was the plan working? Tim hoped so, submerged flippers slapping against each other in nervousness, forcing diminutive bubbles and eddies to tingle upon making subtle contact with his skin. After another swish of his single lower appendage he froze. He could see her, lightly grasping another creature, another tiger. The elephant seal slowly sank until only his eyes protruded above the surface, he could not move in yet, and he should not be seen either. The other tiger appeared to be male, judging by the build that Tim saw etched against the monotone surroundings. He was easier to make out than Shira, being reddish gold, with large, proud shoulders and copiously muscled forelegs, ready to perform any task the tiger's will demanded. The current objective was to put a small space between the tigress and her fears. Both animals exuded discomfiture. Little wet kittens. Tim's un-mouthed chuckle faded within his mind…Shira would have it in for him later. He knew the blame for this humiliating experience, unable to attach to the Captain, or any other crewmate, would fix to him fast, like a noose to his neck. The male tiger was responding to a query posed by Shira, too quite for Tim to catch.

"Heh…let's get out of the water, ok?"

The oversized seal studied the saber's face intently, the involuntary swinging of his trunk-emulating snout in the marine his only movement. Was the male tiger buying this? Hard to tell. In his eyes and the corners of his mouth Tim detected serious deliberation, there was a concern or question that desired to be heard. The eyes averted themselves, putting the thought aside, but it refused to be stifled. It stammered from its confinement of emotions.

"Do I…do I know…are—"

Shira's posture quickly took to a more defensive form, but she was not given the concession of indulging in the other cat's cut off inquest. A deafening noise violently shred through the air, sending shards of ice to further rip the grey tapestry that was the morning sky. The two tigers plunged below the threat. Tim followed suit. He was completely at home in this liquid atmosphere, making straight for them. They surfaced as he reached their awkward, pawing bodies. With all his strength he swiftly pivoted and lashed out his tail, landing a heavy blow to the face of the temporarily disoriented tiger, whose attention was still on aiding Shira as a rouge wave rolled through. Shira stuck an angry paw to Tim's flipper.

"I need him alive!"

"Then keep a good hold on him, and to me. I'm sorry Shira I really am. We'll be back at the boat in soon. I promise."

"Save it."

Spi hovered over for a short moment, informing them the ship was much closer, having been utilized as a ram. He left a single order for his puzzled and exasperated accomplices.

"Get to it."

* * *

><p>Perhaps this is how it will end. Drowning in the sea. Could be more painful. Actually it might be less painful than life now…if life is to be without <em>them<em>. Ancient echoes came to Manny's mind.

"At least you have us!"

"Not your most persuasive argument, Sid."

Diego knew his friend too well. Manny was unsure what family ties had ever held sway with Diego, the self-professed bachelor, but the tiger understood them. There was a hierarchy within the mammoth's world: family, friends, self. A pang of guilt pricked his conscience as honesty began to demand a say. Manny was willing to die today. For what? Grief? So that the darkness drowning his soul could be matched by the sea to his physical body? For the memory of his family? The mammoth could not stay the implications of this. What that really putting his friends before himself? Was he willing to die for them? His spirit recoiled from the cliché question. There is a better one, one that is oft overlooked. Was he willing to _live_ for his friends? It is a different matter entirely.

"It's what you do in a herd."

Some of that herd was with him still. They needed him. Manny surfaced, ready to find his companions. Immediately Sid's cries came to him. He was tied shoulders to toe, being hoisted aloft. Wriggling, he dangled to and fro, emitting painful whines when his body made clumsy connection with the side of a massive object.

"Granny! Ow! Don't touch her! Oof! Or my friends!"

Manny churned his immense legs in the water, making for his friend, vaguely aware of the destruction around him and the impending shadow he was swimming towards. He pushed a large chunk of ice from his path, inadvertently stumbling upon Granny. She flailed her arms wildly, her stick jabbing at invisible assailants.

"Them pirates got my Sidney! I knew that was no explosion of nature! Does ice just EXPLODE? We're under attack! Attack! Don't just sit there, honey! All that weight's gotta have some use!"

She continued twirling in the water, reaching upwards now with her wooden weapon, as if expecting her constricted grandson to grab hold and some safely down.

"Pirates?"

Manny tried to comprehend the extravagance of it all. There was no time to. With a last wail Sid disappeared from sight. Simultaneously movement to the right betrayed the presence of an assailant. He swooped onto a nearby piece of ice, the largest visible remain of their makeshift home. The creature was smaller than the mammoth, but taller when raised to his full height. The exaggerated arms, bipedal capabilities, and mighty hands all confirmed the mandrill nature of the beast. He locked eyes with Manny, thudding his broad chest from which a grotesque howl burst forth as he loped forward and sprung into a leap. Manny's instinct told him to dive. That would mean abandoning Maggy. There was no firmness underneath his body on which to shift his weight and prepare for the impact. He tilted his tusks in an endeavor to deflect the monkey. This opponent accounted for that and landed with a vice grip on Manny's ivory defense. Manny swayed his head and attempted to dislodge the creature with his trunk until he found his breath cut off. Nothing had ever over powered the flexible yet muscled trunk that had warded off uncountable past threats to the mammoth's existence. The ape wrapped Manny's trunk around his elbow and shoulder, like one would stow a cord of rope, his fingers enclosed the end, a living clamp to control the intake of oxygen, the intake of life. He leaned forward, further pushing Manny under the water with his concentrated weight. His final free appendage grasped at Manny's ear, jerking it to his ugly, unkempt teeth.

"I don't think mammoths belong in the ocean. It would be a shame for such a creature to die so wretchedly, so purposelessly. I won't let that happen, but you belong to me."

The burning in Manny's lungs subsided as his feeling numbed and darkness clouded his vision. He didn't know if his efforts at protection did his elderly ally any more service than her ill aimed stick.

* * *

><p>Soar stretched his rested limbs, unretracted claws scratching the cave floor. He could feel the warmth of his mate beside him, and the low, contented growling of her waking body. She would try to sleep a little while longer yet. She was pregnant with their first litter of cubs. The blonde tigress was sure there were three, always pestering Soar to "feel them" so they would know much their father loved them. He could detect a smile under his tongue as he gently licked her face before standing up. Her cub like excitement was overwhelming at times. He was ready to be a father, but realistically nervous. The golden beams of light outside beckoned him to different thoughts. He stretched his back legs as he moseyed into languid pools of sunshine, surveying which would be the best candidate to warm himself in. The sun on his golden chestnut coat made him feel proud and fearless. He was ready for anything, even to be a father. Martah was his; their cubs would be strong and beautiful like her, like himself. The first to breed sealed his dominance in their fledgling pack, having beaten out his brother. Soar closely monitored Zinar, whose relations with the young family of his older brother appeared to bear only the guise of goodwill. Even while pursuing a young tigress for himself, Zinar's love for Martah was still obvious. Was it really love for Martah, or jealously of Soar? Soar could not always read his brother's introverted mind. The contest for Martah had been heated, she had become torn over her two wooers. In the end, the traditional duty to choose the elder and stronger of her two suitors guided her heart, and nearly broke it. Being dear friends with both brothers since a young age had not prepared her for the thin ice they now walked. Where was Zinar anyway? As if in answer a roar erupted just within the nearby tree line of dark firs. Hunting? Awfully close. There was no struggle. Thoughts of investigation came too late. Zinar bust from the shade, heedless of the noise. His eyes smoldered as he ceremoniously dropped a wad of orange fur at the feet of his brother. It was a cub.<p>

Until his death, forever would the smell of pine sap and the sight of cool morning sun filtering through the needles of evergreen trees transport Soar back to this moment. Because that is how the sun illuminated that moment, and how it drifted onto the sap matted pelt of the cub before him. Soar looked up again into the eyes of his brother. They both knew, both could smell her. Only Zinar did not know who she was. His eyes were not questioning, only accusing.

"Why don't you bring him back to Martah, just as proof to show how much you love her."

Soar wasn't going to waste words. The cub's age fit. The single night with his mother had never meant anything to Soar other than an exciting sidestep in an extended tracking trip. A trip taken to give his brother the obligatory chance with Martah before she chose her life's mate. Soar felt almost unashamed. So the cub was conceived in an act of jealousy and boredom. It had nothing to do with the fact that Martah was now his mate. Of course Zinar would not see it that way. The young brother would feel triumph at this despicable downfall, calling to notice the scorn affixed to sabers who mated without commitment, producing such worthless posterity as the cub that whimpered between them. Zinar would argue that because of Soar's pursuit of Martah this would be doubly heinous, unfaithful at some level. Zinar had not soiled his honor, he still would not even if he were still waiting on the tigress to make up her mind…in fact this discovery would be grounds enough for her to change it. Soar knew this thought would soon pass through his brother's mind, if it had not yet. Justifiable or not, his position was now unstable, his life as a leader, his life as a respected saber, was crumbling. Only one thing to do. His forepaw was massive against the skull of the cub. Soar picked him up and examined him momentarily before raising him higher, preparing to bring the small body down to earth with deadly force. A shame. He looks like me. The cub made one, defiant swat at his father, knowing he could not change his fate.

"Soar…Soar please don't do this…it will pain me far more than what is already done."

Looking into her watery, amber, perfect eyes it was the least he could do, to let her keep the cub. She never spoke of the matter again. Never to ask why, never to chastise him, never to stab his conscience when they argued, it almost made it worse to Soar, knowing that she could, that she never went low enough to go there. She could have ripped him apart, everyday, any day, but instead chose to raise the cub with all the love, almost more, that she showed Soar's subsequent offspring, her own cubs. This choice gained Martah the utmost respect among other Tigers who knew, a respect that stayed the wrath many felt against her mate. Even Zinar said nothing. Martah and Soar remained alphas because Martah deserved the title. Many might argue that speaking for the life of a shame begotten cub was foolish, and a weakness unbecoming of a saber, those who knew Soar knew the opposite was the case. Martah named the cub Diego.

This was no dream, no actual memory that played in Diego's unconscious mind. It was merely the reconstruction of facts his conscious self knew to be true, an event he knew once took place. Consciousness began to take over fully as his eyelids flickered open. His face hurt, his muffled hearing told him his left eardrum was water logged. The ear swished in annoyance.

"Awake, are we?"

Diego saw the silver paws of the female saber before him. Her tone was not friendly. There were other creatures standing around them. The tigress let him take stock of the situation. There was a bird. That bird. A rabbit. A warthog. A seal of some sort. Another creature he did not take the time to identify. Then there was a big brute of an ape. The seal looked at Diego uneasily.

"Shouldn't he be tied up with the others?"

"Let Shira have her due, he's not going anywhere."

Something sharp poked at Diego's already sore ribs. He sprung around, snarling in anger and pain. The ape must be the leader.

"Another squeak out of you and you will die today, understand?"

The ape gestured toward him with the razor toothed skull bone of a large fish and a no nonsense attitude. Diego didn't doubt him. He continued turning and saw that Manny, Sid, and Maggy were gagged and tied to a large mast. There were on a boat. Manny looked lost, Sid's head hung dejectedly, and Maggy was working on her gag. She was missing something. The tiger spotted it resting against the carved out railing. He resolutely walked over, picked it up in his mouth and brought it to her. One shaky paw clasped her wooden security blanket, the other patted Diego's head in recognition and thanks. He twisted around to face the tigress once more. Her ears flattened as she addressed him sarcastically.

"That's a wonderful assortment of friends you have."

"Funny, I was going to say the same about yours."

"Mind explaining yourself?"

"I don't have to explain myself to anyone."

"What happened to the pack?"

Diego's suspicions were confirmed. He knew her. Well, he had never met her. In the saber's old pack, before the mission that led to his friendship with Manny and Sid, he had been the right side of the alpha. Soto was his name. He was powerful with a thicker pelt and body than Diego, who recalled the commanding yet paternal nature of this respected leader towards his pack. However, Soto's personality had a cruel streak under the surface, and it was unbridled after a tribe of humans hunted and killed five members of the pack, Soto's mate, young son, an older female, one of her sons, and the grey tigress he was speaking to now. Until that event Diego often was assigned to the important duty of patrolling the outer reaches of the pack's territory, a task only given to loyal and trusted members. The boundaries must be kept accurate, opportunities to expand it noticed, and negotiations with adjacent packs handled smoothly. This demanded Diego's attention for months at a time, the only break in his solitude when pack runners would catch up with him to get a status report. After a particularly long such trip the tiger returned to find the pack expanded, Soto's son was born and the grey female had shown up. Obviously an outcast of other packs. She kept to herself and helped the other tigresses raise their young, while the males eagerly caught glimpses of her when they could. The duty of training cubs was reserved to females, who carried this out in the privacy of a cave or small outings away from the others. Only privileged males such as fathers and immediate blood relatives were permitted access into this privacy until the cubs could hunt, becoming adults in the eyes of the pack. Soto was strangely protective of the quiet newcomer, and did not drive her away, as he should have. If she was unwanted elsewhere there was good reason. Diego wondered why but instead answered her question.

"It depends on who you're asking about."

"Soto."

"He's dead."

"I know he's dead! You were there! Why did he die?" Her blue eyes flashed as she grew impatient.

"Why do you care, was he your lover?"

Diego smirked, he could see he hit a nerve; it wasn't quite what he expected though. She leaned towards him menacingly; he noted her paws were almost as big as his, studded with shiny, black claws. She was attractively sleek and well built, dark stripes coursing the lighter fur along her face, shoulders, and legs, enticing his eyes to follow them. He resisted, brought back from the momentary but strong distraction by her answer.

"He was my brother, he is dead. And you are going to tell me why, and why you are with his murderers, unless you wish to be counted among them."

So that was the connection. Siblings. They did have the same rolling accent particular to their region, which Diego had not been native too. The resemblance stopped there.

"Soto wasn't murdered."

"Did humans kill him?"

"No."

"You are lying, I remember the scent of man. I found Soto's body, he was wounded."

"That was just a baby, Soto was going to kill it. Revenge." Diego raked his memory for names. "For Lorah, for Cota…and you apparently. How are you even alive?"

"I escaped."

"How?"

"If Soto wasn't killed by man how did he die?"

"Icicles."

"That's not the whole story! Stop beating around the bush."

The sphere of observers knew little of saber interactions. The two cats where the only true carnivores aboard the ship. The pirates knew Shira was relishing the honor of a prisoner belonging to her, for however short a time. It was a well-earned reward for her part in capturing them, even though the plan had changed. Diego's companions could see there were parts to his story they were unaware of. This did not surprise them, Diego was a private soul who guarded himself closely, especially around such animals that could not understand many of the things he did. Understand or not they were curios to see him interact with one of his one kind, particularly a female, a fact Sid gleefully embraced, despite that it looked like neither of the cats would give pause before ripping the other apart. They were circling each other now, bobbed tails flicking from side to side in irritation, the darker, longer hairline along their backs bristling, their lips snarling to expose the full length of their long teeth in open malice. Each seemed to be weighing the options and outcomes of attacking the other, both masking exhaustion brought on by the events of the morning, for one the events of the past few days. Shira rooted her feet.

"Whatever you're not telling me does not really matter. I don't need to be told what I can see plainly. I know the scents that surrounded my brother's death." Her eyes flitted over the other prisoners. "They were there. You have betrayed your pack. You have betrayed your own kind. You murdered my brother. Really though, I guess I couldn't have expected must else, could I? Adulterous dealings aren't exactly unfamiliar to you, are they, _Diego_? Do you even know what your name means?"

Diego felt a stab at his heart, he chose to ignore it. His hazel eyes were overtaken by the green within them, staring the tigress down with a livid intensity. The feelings evoked in him by the rare feminine presence so close to him were only held in check because they were conflicting. His body reacting to hers told him to subdue the saucy and audacious attitude, to make her form submit to his, to have his way with her. His pride told him to murder the deliverer of this public assault to his final sheds of dignity. First he had been played, not this. His rational and logic told him to respond in kind. He could play this game too, even if he didn't know her past, he knew gossip had got around about his.

"I don't need a history lesson from you, and I don't expect or care if you understand mine. I don't regret anything I've done and I haven't run from it, like you apparently did, only showing up in Soto's life after it had been half lived." A hunch clicked and fitted itself within Diego's questions and ideas about her history. It was a vindictive one. He employed it. "Those humans were not just hunting sabers for the joy of killing a rival predator, it's not their typical style. They were hunting just one animal in particular. You. The other deaths were just the cost of doing business. That's why you are still alive, they wanted you alive, for whatever corrupt purpose they had…your coat? You only escaped confinement, not death itself. You're not that skilled. All the trouble with those human creatures started after you made an appearance. So really, if you're so eager to blame others for Soto's death start with yourself. If you loved him at all you would never have come to bring the danger to him, to his family. You would have done better to find some rock to crawl and die under." Score.

"Bastard," she spat at him.

The word, truthful as it was, did not hurt him this time. He had won.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone! I am so sorry Chapter 5 took so long, I've barely had any time to myself lately when I wasn't sleeping. Spring break is just around the corner though so I hope to update more a lot sooner than the interval between my last this and chapter 4! First I would like to thank you all so much for your reviews (and favorites and such), especially the ones that specified what they liked most, or even what they didn't like as much. Those sorts of reviews are very helpful. I like getting your feedback, I like knowing when something about the story or a character touches you, I want them to be as real to you as they are to me. If I'm not accomplishing that I'm not doing such a great job as a writer, especially since many of you are authors as well. I sincerely hope that you enjoy this chapter, even if it is not as action centered as the previous one, or quite as long...and thank you for being patient with me! I hope everyone is doing just fantastic!

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Fickleness of Fate<p>

Clouds muffled the distant thunder that rolled over and through them, as if the sound could only penetrate small crevices in the cumulous bodies, sealing them into a single dark mask no longer graced with sunlight. Diego felt his eyes cross slightly as his keen night vision followed a small rivulet, headed by scouting raindrop, slide on his nose. He could feel every move in its path around his damp coat. He tried to stay one step ahead, predicting where next it would advance in its solemn march down his visage. Off it goes. He waited for another to fall. This focus kept his mind from what it wanted to wander too, wanted to feel. It would have him feel the wounds. Some old, and deep, such as the throbbing that ran down his right side, nestled in his ribs and upper, inner thigh. An intervallic reminder of what cost was. A fixed price for an immeasurable gain. Perhaps not exactly a fixed price. The chronic hurt ebbed and flowed, at times imperceptible, at times a heavy impairment to the saber's daily activities, particularly intrusive during hunts. Diego did not complain. It was a just reward, a fair bargain. The original injury was sustained in the defense of Manny's life, but only after the resolve to take it himself had shaken, unraveling the tapestry of manipulation and deceit that lead to the mammoth's predicament, but not destroying it. Diego never completed the dishonorable hunt, and justice saw that every chase thereafter would remind him why. Other scars healed long ago, but the tiger still remembered them. There was a time when vertical marks traversed the length of either side of his face. A parting gift from someone he once had loved. An unconscious raindrop now followed one of these old paths. He shook it off. The new wounds entered the foreground of his feeling. Diego's head throbbed, body ached, and thick rope burned around his paws, mid section, and neck. A shallow yet messy cut on his chest, pulled wider by one of the restraining cords occasionally let a red drop fall along side the rain. This was Gutt's inject during the close of Diego's exchange with Shira, preventing it from escalating further. Never bothering to gag Diego, the pirates exhibited little concern at the site of the other prisoners working to free their mouths. Manny's trunk was highly successful in this effort. Still, silence had reigned between the friends throughout the day and into the night. Customarily, Sid broke it.

"Diego, what does your name mean?"

The cat winced, did not wish for conversation, but saw no valid reason to avoid the query. Sid's motive was nothing but innocent.

"He who supplants."

"That sounds a lot more interesting than my name. Mine just means wide meadow. Or something. Granny says I was born in a meadow. She says it was beautiful…and sunny…and there were dandelions…" His voice trailed off, lowering in the reverie of this aesthetic account of his beginning. He snapped back to the present dreary surroundings, lisping out another question.

"What does supplant mean?"

"To take the place of something else."

"Like an upgrade?"

"I've only heard it used negatively."

"Hmmm…maybe you haven't heard it enough?"

"No, Sid. I've heard it plenty."

In truth, while Diego's start in life was a stark contrast to the flowers and meadows of Sid's, the fact had never concerned him much. As a cub he saw little reason to be troubled by it and was ignorant of how he was seen by others of his kind. Adolescence was marked in his memory by an event with far more impact on his self-image than his birth, even though the two pieces of time were unquestionably linked. From a young age the saber's character possessed a mature discernment-neither his creation nor any consequences of it were his fault. He had never let others drag the carcass of his past to his feet, for him to answer for. Never had he felt ashamed of himself for something his father had done, despite that fact that his very existence bore unceasing testimony to it. So why did the scathing remarks hurt this time, why did his mind continue to return to them? Only once before had discomfort concerning his history dared to press upon his spirit, to make him blink, coming and going mysteriously, years ago. It was as Manny was preparing for the birth of his daughter. The sudden onslaught of family life and the purity, the innocence manifested in a new, infant soul, put the tiger's into quiet panic. The beckoning of distant mountains soothed alarm over the stain he saw by his presence during such a significant moment in his friend's life. His former tracking grounds called, the breeze telling him of adventures he could partake in, on his own. A comforting alternative to the path of the mammoth, which Diego felt he could never follow, that he was barred from following. His status left no place for it, he would be alone. This sort of solitude lessened when the saber truly was by himself. So he struck out on his own, leaving an incredulous and concerned young family and a heartbroken sloth in his wake. However, peril always had a strange attraction to Sid, and the intervening rescue brought the wandering cat back home, to his herd. He did not regret it, it was meant to be. He aided Ellie with her birth. The little mammoth he helped to bring into the world had then gazed at him through tranquil, perfect eyes, as if telling him it was all right. Her soul did not recoil from his, tainted though it was. She reached out to him. It gave him peace. Even if he could not have this himself, he could still be part of it. He was still looking into a world that was not his, but he was not an outsider. Silly, a description Diego never assigned to himself, nevertheless became how he referred to the feelings of unworthiness and guilt that had slipped into his life before the birth of Peaches. Why were they creeping back…why was tonight…_different_? Sid unwittingly stumbled closer than the tiger to the answer as he began a second attempt to cheer his friend. Diego let lose a growl as the sloth craned his long neck, his brows excitedly suspended above his eyes, which glinted impishly.

"Hey Diego, is she hot?"

"Sid, knock it off."

Manny's warning lacked the backbone of real threat. Sid was relishing this chance. The pirates were below deck, anchored for the night. Diego, squirming and defenseless, could not bite, claw, or chase him. The sloth protested the intrusion to his rare grasp on power.

"Aww c'mon! It's just a question! It's not everyday Diego gets to meet a _girl_ tiger. So you didn't hit it off…maybe she doesn't like you…actually…" The sloth added an audible side note to himself, "she kinda seemed like she hates your guts."

Diego rolled his eyes.

"Well, looks like I don't have much of a chance."

"So you do want a chance!"

"I didn't say that!"

The saber recalled long forgotten advice, given to Manny under similar circumstances. Sid is never going to let up. Just go with it. It will be easier, it won't give him the fun of dragging this out.

"Fine. So what…she's attractive. It doesn't mean anything."

A hoot of triumph erupted to Diego's left, stifled by Manny's trunk, a threat that was still very much to be considered. Manny was tied on the opposite side of the mast from Diego, but did not need to see his friend to know the admission had cost the tiger's pride dearly, only given in the hope to circumvent further torture.

"I can wring his neck any time."

"Pshh if you could find love then anyone can. I'm sure ol' tigey wigey's got some smooth charm hidden somewhere." Sid ducked Manny's second shot, which thudded dully into the mast. He seemed oblivious that his mission to lighten his friend's moods had now fully morphed into quite the opposite. Sid's conscience tugged forebodingly, but this opportunity dangled as a long sought after trinket before his eyes. "So…_tiger_…what do tigers like? What do _you_ like? Her claws? Fangs? The way she growls?"

"Yeah Sid, that's all tigers care about."

The sloth caught a drip of sarcasm.

"Ohho…so you're a more subtle guy…are her eyes…_tantalizing_? Do you long to touch the silky, soft fur, the gentle stripes that run _all over_—"

The mammoth's third blow wasn't misguided.

"Ow! Why are _you_ so defensive? Diego's gotta like something! You can tell us Diego, we're your pals! It could be anything…after all, Manny likes butts."

These last words, delivered in a cautious, lower voice, were still caught by his comrades.

"Where did you hear THAT?"

"You'd just like to think that Ellie only tells you secrets, wouldn't you?"

"Being her mate, I should think so."

"You may be her mate, but I'm her _confidant_. It was the first compliment you gave to her I believe. You're just sore because even with the mess you made of your first shot at courtship, I still helped you win her in the end."

"Maybe if you had ever been successful for yourself you wouldn't be so nosey about others" Manny's anger was steadily growing, boiling in his chest, "and it wasn't my first shot at courtship, and I did it on my own the first time…and maybe if you had ever lost someone you loved you would understand when someone says they don't want to talk about something. Maybe it would teach you a little respect!"

"Way to make this all about yourself. You're not the _only_ one who's ever lost someone."

Again silence enveloped the night, as the various truths of the exchange settled upon the companions, broken intermittently by the blissful snores of Sid's grandmother, who, for now, was sleeping calmly, tied between Manny and Diego.

* * *

><p>Shira stepped lightly through the bowels of the ship. Under the deck a complex series of tunnels and cabins explored its length and depth. She quickly slinked past Gutt's chamber, blockaded with boards and rock. None were permitted entrance into his quarters, which he spent a considerable amount of the day locked inside of. The only exception to his mandate was Raz, the first mate. This fact was unfortunate for the other crewmembers. Raz, a large boar, biologically had impressive capabilities of an olfactory nature. This he combined with an intrepid disposition that had a weakness, or strength from his perspective, for snooping. Nothing got past Gutt, but he often left the supervision of the crew to Raz, and nothing got by him either. This small distance between the ape and his crew added a sinister aloofness to his government. The band was loyal, but that didn't mean they liked everything he did, or that he made them do.<p>

The tigress halted, noting that the moon must be breaking through the clouds as a splinter of light fell across the tunnel, falling though a marginal crack in the ice from the upper deck. Light was not the floor's only visitor. Rain and blood had fallen through, a miniature river beginning to dry on the ice. Diego's blood. She maneuvered around it, a passing thought hoping that it would be the only blood spilled during the rest of this exploit. A stronger premonition admonished her against such optimism. Shira did not feel sympathy for the minor cut her enemy was suffering, or for whatever impact the condemning assertions she had leveled at him earlier had on him. Her temperament was not forgiving, but it was not cruel either. She would have Tim fetch water to cleanse the tunnel in the morning. A patch of moonlight grew stronger as she reached the rear of the ship were the passageway widened into a landing, open to the night and the sounds of the sea. The saber could make out the conversing shadows of Chip, hanging his feet over the ledge, and Tim, balancing his head and torso on his flippers, letting the rest of his body float lazily in the water. Their whispering ceased as she approached them.

"We weren't talking about you," Tim lied.

"My friends are allowed to."

"You're not mad at me…about…well…this morning?"

"Ehh…I'm too tired too."

She lay down, a sullen pout briefly crossing her features. Chip hopped over, putting an unsure paw on her shoulder.

"You ok?"

"For what it's worth."

"You don't seem ok." Chip knew Shira was not going to open up before she was ready, and shot a baleful glace at Tim as the seal spoke.

"You can always talk to us. What was that all about today anyway?"

"Give her some space!"

"Sorry. Sorry Shira…I wasn't trying to…I'm just sorry about this morning, and the whole mess. I don't want you to be hurt…is all." Tim's head hung limply. He was relieved that Shira's wrath over the day's events had found a new target, but equally concerned about the manner in which this had happened. Through her shrugs and forced smiles her attendants could see the hurt, how the other tiger's words had stung her. She put on a brave front. It protected her. Many hurts she could halt at the surface, willfully defiant, counter striking. A few did reach into her though, deeply, told only by the refraction of pain in her eyes. Chip could see that pain now, even as her blue orbs tried to avoid his yellow ones while he searched for a means of concealment. He was still taking in all they had recently learned about her that day, and the strangers they had picked up, something he considered to be a mistake. It was done with now. As far as he could help it, Shira was not ever again going to be spoken to in the manner she endured today. His paw clenched into a fist, gripping her hackles angrily. Chip was an ever-ready firecracker, a sparking spirit.

"Do you believe I loved my brother, that I still do love him?"

"Shira, I have never seen another so loyal to family. Granted, I don't have many great examples, myself being an exemplary instance of a poor one."

"You're loyal to me, that counts for something."

"Speaking of which, Capt'n Gutt won't be the only one having a say if that tiger gives you any more lip!"

Tim was not to be outdone by this offer.

"Hey, I smacked him pretty good before that! Does that count? It was like…you know…forsight!"

"Sure…" Shira let a reluctant chuckle into the night. Secretly she found her adversary somewhat fascinating, recalling vividly the burning reaction within the coals of his eyes to her verbal affronts. There was no fear, no ignominy, making it hard to calculate her effectiveness until she saw, too late, it had driven his creative rebuttal. He had used her own anger against her, twisting it back on itself, revealing coolheaded intelligence. A lesser opponent would simply have attacked, settling the issue through brute force. Thoughts of his honor were immediately sullied by his disrepute. After all, his response had been conjured, even if he had hit close to the truth, guesswork, aimed to deliver a humiliating offseting blow to her factual charges. He _was_ illegitimate, a sign of betrayal from birth, enhancing this stigma in his desertion of her brother, or whatever he had done that lead to Soto's death. Her appraisal paused for a moment. Why was he still loyal to his current friends, what made that tick? Why had not Soto deserved that? She buried her head in her paws, cursing the fickleness of fate, of other creatures, of herself.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: Hello everyone! First and foremost I must thank everyone for the reviews! The fact that you are enjoying this story and letting me know means so much to me! This chapter is a little short, but I am on Spring break so I *hope* to update again before the end of the week, especially since this chapter is a change in scenery from the previous ones, introducing characters that have been spoken about, but not actually seen yet. I hope I did a good job with them as this chapter was a little more challenging to write for me than my previous ones and I'm a little nervous about it. So please let me know your thoughts, constructive criticisms, etc. Crash and Eddie I have tried to mellow-somewhat-given they are much older now.

The oak tree is a symbol of wisdom and strength (among other things). To see more on this, and other interesting tid bits about the story and characters, check out my profile! :)

Until next time and I hope everyone is doing just wonderful!

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><p>Chapter 6: The Oak Tree<p>

No closure, no way to move on from this. Manny could still feel Ellie's trunk wrapped within his. Clinging tightly-but it was not enough. He still felt the burning sensation as the muscles stretched, the friction of her fur being pulled away by the juggernaut force that tore the very earth itself. How was he hoping to be stronger than the very ground on which he had been standing? He heard her voice, calling out to him. One last time. For a final moment their eyes met. With all the depth of his soul his made a sorrowful promise. I will find you. I will search forever. I love you. He saw this reflected back with a fullness that reached the very brims of her eyes, spilling over. A single tear. A tear that sealed the promise, but would not hold him to it. It fell from her frightened, tensioned gaze with noble acceptance, one last wish. You will look, but you may not find me. You will love, but you may not feel it. Do not make the memory of me your sole happiness, your only peace. Manny…she saw the growing despair, the grief at what her emerald eyes asked of him. It was something he could not promise. He would try. Her tear broke upon his outstretched trunk, and he felt her no more.

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><p>"<em>Hey!<em>"

"Oh…sorry."

Peaches cringed and lifted a remorseful foot from the mud. The cool, imprinted muck resisted this action, allying with gravity to keep the mammoth stuck in her steps. As she freed herself it loudly grumbled, emitting a series of gurgles, relinquishing its hold with a wet _pop!_ Forgiving laughter ran wildly about her, as the scurrying forms of two possums made their own satisfying splats. They hopped to and fro; headless of the moist earth their paws sent flying.

"What did I step on anyway?"

"You ruined our tracks!" Fierce blue eyes blazed up at her. Peaches thought of mentioning the new ones that her honorary, marsupial uncles had just created, but mud was an important commodity to Crash. If he was upset about her stepping in it, there was some reason-in all likelihood rife with mischief-but a reason nonetheless. A pair of almond encircled pupils joined the blue pinpoints that were still locked with the mammoth's, still trying to impress upon her the seriousness of her offense. The second possum on scene slipped and knocked against his brother. A fractioned second ticked by as they grappled with each other, attempting to maintain balance as they struggled. The mud painted their creamy stripes, making their color tone unison. Brown. Eddie, the calmer of the two, gave pause, and Crash was sent face first into the muck. His attack had miscalculated this unexpected surrender.

"Ummm…"

Victorious chuckling ceased as Eddie returned attention to his gargantuan niece.

"These were special tracks."

Presently Crash's head lifted from the mud, rendered shapeless from the grime's adhesion thereto.

"In case we're being followed!"

"We made tracks going the _other_ way!"

"Then we put more tracks on top of those, going a _different_ way!"

Between the two of them they had an arm pointed in each Cardinal Direction.

"But…the noise your foot makes totally made up for it. I wish my feet would do that."

"Do it again!"

What began as an indulgent gesture on the part of Peaches soon devolved into a full-fledged war in the mire. At times the possums gained the advantage, climbing her fur, freckling it with countless paw prints, prehensile tails slinging globs of dirt like makeshift trebuchets. The battle swayed in favor of the mammoth at the shear volume of mud commanded by a single stop, or a spray from her trunk. A flexible cannon, impeccably aimed. Tiring, the trio collapsed, Peaches claiming triumph, Crash demanding the contrary, and Eddie happily accepting a truce. The midday sun was rapidly drying battle scene anyway. Crash scratched a paw at the flaking clay encrusting his ears.

"Boy! Am I glad possum genes aren't recessive!"

"Yeah, could you see Manny doing anything half this fun?"

"Dad isn't much one for thrills…or getting dirty. He would say this isn't lady like at all."

"Are you kidding? I bet even Ellie would play "slop skirmish" with us!"

"Slop" was a relative term. To the twins, who named the game long before Peaches' time, slop was loosely associated with anything, well, "sloppy" and flung with the intent to annoy or…skirmish. Mud. Snow. Pond scum. Dung. All worthy missiles.

"Because possums rule!"

To punctuate this infallible remark, Crash launched a gritty blob into the cloudless sky, wondering if it would make landing at the point from which it originated. He didn't mind being a victim in his own experiments, most executed with little forethought and without defined rationale. As he turned to Peaches, minute guilt caught his throat. He swallowed.

"Do you think Manny will find us?"

Eddie echoed his brother, putting a proactive spin on the question.

"Do you think that we will find him?"

"I…I…why would anything be following us?"

Incredulous, Crash raised himself soberly, his weight shifting to a single elbow as he regarded Peaches.

"Rudy…follows _anything._"

"Ugh! You would bring that into everything!"

"Rudy is in everything! Everything evil! He's the wickedness that holds all the wickedness together, binding it with his claws! Unleashing it with his claws!"

The possum, now fully erect, exuberantly stalked around his companions, thrusting clamping paws into their faces, emulating the infamous jaws of Rudy. Peaches recoiled as Crash continued mimicking the dinosaur, the mythical beast of stories she barely gave stock to.

"What kind of demented philosophy is that?"

"Oh, don't believe me?"

"Have I ever?"

Admiring Crash's fidelity to their past adventures, but understanding how absurd it must sound to anyone who had not been part of it, Eddie chimed in. Of course Peaches had been part of the adventure, but she had been too new to the world to appreciate or remember it.

"Well Crash, Rudy is one of those things that sort of does have to be seen to be believed."

"Ha! I don't think so! Take the earthquake! That was just old Rudy coughing in his sleep! Just wait until he really wakes up!"

"Speaking of which…" Peaches rolled over, her fur detaching chunks of hardened loam from the ground, "I'm going to find Mom."

"Speaking of what?" Four shoulders shrugged as each possum's eyes questioned the other. They let her go. A white lie from Peaches signaled a desire for solitude, something her butterfly, lightheartedly headstrong nature only required in small doses. She knew where her mother was: at the bottom of the small hills, entreating a group of mammals for help. Demanding it. She already saw what her state would be when she returned with the evening. Deflated, but unwilling to accept the outcome of her attempts. Embarrassed by the selfishness, the ungratefulness of other creatures, but not wishing to admit they were so. Finally she would cave, ranting, reproachful of those she previously excused. Manny would, Manny did help the other inhabitants in their pocket of shoreline, often at Ellie's behest, but more so than any other creature could claim. Now he was lost, and not one of them cared enough to help her. Peaches walked up the next hill, making her way towards a small forest that populated the top. Why was her mother so naive as to expect anyone else to be concerned? Why did she always try to see the good in other beasts? So some had promised to help…where were they now? Hypocrites. She pictured a particular group of animals, old family friends, in her mind. So consumed with themselves that they can't lift their heads for a minute! Because their losses are the sole importance, the only things they can see! My parents were the reason they even had _anything_ to lose! A pile of underbrush creaked as the youthful mammoth, fast approaching her sixteenth, her cornerstone season, sank in frustration. The shady glade was picked purposely to enhance the forlorn feelings she brought. Her angry sighs released them to inhabit the branches above, the breeze carried them into every shadow, a bulwark against intrusion. Another sigh was strangled, a quiet sob stealing its ration of breath. She imagined the surrounding foliage glaring at her, passing judgment on her judgment of others. Who really is the hypocrite? Who really has been the one so consumed with herself that she could not abide, could not be bothered with advice from, with deference to others? Who _really_ would have nothing to lose but for her parents? Me…me, me, ME! She screamed at the trees. They did not answer. She kicked one for good measure. All you get to do is sit up here all day, watching the faults of others, seeing them all! Glad you never have any problems! A broken trunk, a dying oak, rare along this shore, caught her eye. Again she felt her own stupidity ringing in her ears. See? Who still cannot see past herself? Her flailing nose slapped a few saplings aside as she ran. Why were _they_ unscathed? Something, something about that oak, once tall and strong. Yet it was the only tree on the hilltop that had succumbed to the quake, the storm. It unsettled her. She saw the silent parallels between it and her father, between the storm and what she had done to him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note:** Hello everyone! No I'm not dead! I want to thank you so, so much for your patience, reviews, favorites, and all of your kind and encouraging words. I am finally done with school for the semester and had a little vacation. I am so happy to get back to writing purely for the fun of it and super excited for the new movie (not too much longer)! This chapter isn't terribly long, but I plan to update very soon (and yes, this time I will keep my word...some unexpected happenings during my spring break did not allow me to updated it again during that time). I do realize that some names/etc. are wrong because I started writing this when relatively very little was known about the movie. At some point when I'm done writing it I do plan to go back, correct some things and just all around make it better! For now though, it would be rather confusing to change some things mid-leap so to speak. I hope you all like it and are having a splendid summer!

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><p>Chapter 7: Charmed<p>

Harsh laughter tarnished the morning air. Three sore bodies and minds are roused from a restless slumber. One is undisturbed.

"The sun's past up me hearties!" More jovial, yet cold noises came from between Gutt's perpetually parched lips, delighted in the unsavory reception his words were greeted with. The mammoth met the ape's eye with a level gaze just touched with disdain and heated with resolve. What resolve? Gutt's inward smile soon displayed itself on his features. You are mine, whatever purpose, resolve you thought was your own, will now serve me. The tiger, whose eyes had been flanking his comrade's stare off widened briefly, encountering static as Shira maneuvered around the mast from behind, softly grazing him as she strolled by. A façade of innocence as she looked back at the affronted male, his confused, annoyed expression an attempt at masking both pleasure and pain. The tigress sauntered on, deliberate in her steps and the swing of her tail. Gutt was pleased with Shira's show of indifference to the insults she sustained, knowing that seeing the captive tiger squirm amused her. Still, I don't need too much of _that _on my ship. Toying with another's emotions is fool's play. It opens the door to fall prey to your own. Nip that in the bud.

The sloth was raising his paw.

"What?"

"Do we get complimentary breakfast on this voyage? I could use some maid service too…I think my rope needs to be changed."

To the surprise of all on board the Captain cut Sid's restraints, which fell limply to the icy floor in a small puff of dust.

"I hear some call you "Fire King." If you wish, you may be addressed as such here. Your talent will be most useful to me. There is aged wood stowed below deck. Use it at your discretion."

Sid's mind was in a daze. Recognition? Honor? Fire King? Sure, Manny and Diego appreciated his odd knack for mastering the great power of men, but never in a formal, important manner. "Hey, _Lord of the Flame_, your tail's on fire!" The credit given to him began with a scoff. He smiled tentatively up at the uncouthly sophisticated ape.

"That's what I call respect!"  
>"Don't buy into it Sid, respect doesn't travel with animals who capture and pillage."<p>

Gutt was unfazed.

"Oh but I'm sure it bites at the heals of lost mammoths who are just as willing to deal blows in an attempt to teach it to inferior minds?"

Manny swallowed hard. The monkey knew of their argument last night, snorted knowingly.

"You too, can have respect on this ship. Just do as I say. That easy."

"I don't want respect from you. I only want to get back to my family."

"Oh, lost are they? What a shame. Indeed. Well, if the only thing you really want is to get back to them, by all means…"

The Captain, who's skull sword had been sawing at the ropes around Manny's middle, taking bits of brown fur with it, stilled as the cords broke. He jumped back, holding wide his arms and nodding his head.

"Go right ahead." Miles of sunshine and sea wrapped around the boat as far as Manny's eyes could take in the day's brilliance.

"Take me to them!" His voice was commanding, but his body quivered. Legs cramping, strength shallow, heart louder within his ears than the words he shouted. Gutt had no need of subduing him physically at the moment, and they each knew this. Still, a submissive spirit is additionally required. Gutt raised his voice, calling the attention of all on board.

"I give the orders around here! You will call me "Captain" and you will do as I command. With, or without respect. You choose. You might want to choose in a fashion that best serves those you care about, if you really care about them. As soon as we can take stock of the new shoreline we will make to land, replenish supplies, and take advantage of whatever may await us."

"You mean to steal, capture, and kill?"

"As it suits me. For a mammoth you are not using your brain well. Great things, great…opportunities…may come to each of us when we land." The ape's dark pupils scanned his crew and captives lighting with dark enjoyment on one particular individual, but none read him well enough to catch it. He admonished them all to remember this thought as he leaned towards Manny and tapped grey, cracked fingernails on his prisoner's head before playfully tickling behind his left ear. Manny stiffened and his feeling froze as the ape yanked at a tiny, clinking object buried there, hidden away for years. Gasps of recognition escaped Diego and Sid as Gutt held the trinket aloft, eyeing and grasping it with obsessed interest. This was the first they had seen of it since the day that truly brought them together, when they returned a human infant to his father. A baby that Diego would have killed, and Manny would have let die. An act of forgiveness for two creatures hurt deeply by man, made possible by forgiveness towards each other and Sid's true influence, his "too lazy to hold a grudge" nature. A truce. No, more than that. A sacrifice. A sign of gratitude. A sign of peace.

The charm necklace, a gift from the baby's father, so treasured by Manny, had never left him from that day. Now it was dangling from the grimy paws of some horrible being that cared nothing for anything that it stood for. Manny's trunk shot upward, but the strong, agile arm evaded him with ease, it's partner tapping him between the eyes.

"Ahh, tat, tat…no monkey business." Gutt stained the little wooden man affixed to the necklace with a kiss. "That, is reserved for myself. Raz!"

"Yes Sir!" The boar grinned with pride, breathing in his importance.

"See to it our new mates are introduced properly to the crew, procedure, and their quarters. No one enters my cabin! Someone can release the old bat when she wakes up, find her something to do. For Fire King's sake I hope there is something she can do." He winked at Sid. "Don't let her wander off."

In a swift motion of saw toothed weaponry Diego was finally freed, struggling to gain his footing. He grunted, held in a snarl as Gutt, without bothering to move Manny's ornament to another paw, secured a handful of bloodied, matted fur on Diego's chest, twisting it as the tiger blinked in the pain. The necklace now became soiled with blood as Gutt spoke.

"I have nothing to say to you…yet."

"Likewise, _Captain_."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note:** Thank every one of you for your reviews! They mean so much to me! I hope you continue to enjoy the story! I am sorry if it is proceeding on the slow side. Especially this next chapter, but I thought some introductions were in order before too much more happens. Yes, in answer to some questions, I know that some of my characters aren't exactly correct in their names (or in one case, gender) as I began this story before very much was known about the new characters. I'm doing the best I can to reconcile some of the differences, but some things cannot be changed this far into it. The story may be re-written at some point, but for now I'm just going to carry on, especially as I knew full well that this would happen as I could not possibly get everything right. It doesn't bother me anyway, as I think it's more fun to write it this way. As always please leave a review, I appreciate your thoughts very much! Some longer, more intense chapters will be on their way...

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><p>Chapter 8: Some Introduction is in Order<p>

"All right! You heard the Captain! Lads, I'll introduce us." The boar assumed an even more official air with Gutt absent. His voice was rough, as if gears within his throat had to turn and grate each other as he spoke. Unexpectedly the tone was not unpleasant, rising and falling, adapting to his audience with a buoyant pulse, catching the attention in a way to obtain compliance without forcing it. It revealed its owner to be someone of experience in handling others, a sharp mind, someone who had seen much, survived much. Despite the charisma that exuded from the influence of the animal, it hinted a lower register, where it might casually slip any moment into a dark reservoir of cruelty.

"This is Silas Spi, but we're never that formal. Spi is the eyes and ears of this ship, a great shadow on the sea! Many foes have we vanquished from his ample warnings, and he is our chief navigator."

Spi remained unruffled by this praise, only nodding his head slightly at his introduction before flapping away. It was quite clear he did not consider this meeting to be of importance to him. Diego did not care for it much either. _Ample enough warnings to capture prisoners too. _No wonder the bird thought lowly of conversing so affably with the conquered. Sid made an attempt at introduction as the bird faded into the bright sky.

The attention of the hog moved on, calling out a gruff jackrabbit who went by "Chip." There was some commotion as a story behind the nickname was alluded to, but the rabbit, hard spoken and quick-witted, kept it at bay. In the verbal frenzy his rightful name was quite forgotten. Even as the next pirate was named, Chip was still on the alert, long ears bristling beneath crossed arms, outward physical protection for some nearly wounded emotion. He shot an excessively malevolent glance at Shira, still giggling and wrinkling her nose at him in some private joke.

Suddenly aware of her now awkward mirth, she leapt to a higher deck, with forced focus on cleaning one of her forepaws in a manner more dignified than her girlish laughter. Inwardly she chided the small spark of innocence she had let fly from her soul in the presence of both crew and captives. She hoped none would catch it, and she was unsure of what she felt when Diego's eyes momentarily caught hers. Her small slip fell through the cracks of the boisterous encounter, missed or forgotten by all save one. She decided this made her uncomfortable. As her name was uttered she continued with her furtive attempt at disappearing without having declare it with her absence. It seemed to work as the first mate did not embellish her role on the ship, and to him it was quite obvious that Shira was known well enough for the present. She did not even offer a side-glance as her tongue continued to traverse rough paths along her fur, knowing one pair of eyes was watching her all the same.

Tim did not wait for introduction, blobbing forward enthusiastically, childish nature forgetting all transgressions of the previous day. Indeed to his nature if the past didn't matter to him then all others should just as soon acquit it. The seal was not dimmed by the dark warnings of the captain. Lack of restraints raised the newcomers to crewmates, to be welcomed with the true spirit goodwill. Diego thought better of growling as he became enveloped in a heavy hug and Sid well nigh disappeared under the thick embodiment of convivial personality. Many attempted to remove his scowl as he backed away, thankful for being so large himself. A hoarse laugh came from the first mate.

"Here's Tim, chief of all nautical proceedings! And our best negotiator, though we rarely have cause for negotiation. He'll gladly make you feel right at home."

Sid was finally free to breath once more, but he appreciated having found a companion as outgoing as he was.

"Who's he?"

"Oh that's Sheldon. He doesn't talk much. But if you give him a bone, stick, or rock he speaks through his work, if you take my meaning. He's our go to for weapons."

The curious animal was hunkered down over a long piece of shell, a material apparently not recalled by the boar in answering Sid's query. Erratic ticking noises came from Sheldon's mouth as he worked, sawing with obsessive intensity at the shell with a rock file. His ears flopped to and fro with his busy arm, giant hind legs comfortably tucked beneath him. Content.

"Hey! Sheldon! Say hi! Be polite now."

A shy smile played on the features of what Diego now recognized as a kangaroo, a creature not known well to him. These animals generally lived further south than the tiger's favored climate. The face had a certain far away eminence to it, and the eyes looked past his companions, almost as if to some other world. Sheldon nodded rapidly, his clicks quickening their succession, his expression shone with naïve amusement, thinking they all had come to admire his labor. The half-finished shell dagger was proudly, tenderly held aloft as approving noises peppered the crew. Even Chip disregarded his mood, which was largely affected anyway, to give the marsupial a pat on the back and further examine the weapon.

"Good lad, Sheldon! Looks first rate!"

The boar now returned concentration to himself, where he considered it right to be.

"I am Raz, first mate of the _Orlog_, our glorious vessel! You report directly to me. Now! We'll get you some grub and set about assignments for the day. Captain Gutt has ordered extra food rations in welcome! Sloth!"

"Uhh…yes sir?"

"I think I'll put you on the food today. It needs to re-inventoried and rationed to accommodate our new crew."

"Does that involve math? I'm much better at interior design!"

"Just organize it…fit in interior whatever on the side."

"Aye, aye, sir! Food works well with me." Sid, gleeful at his good luck began to whistle a ditty learned long ago about the glories of food.

"Are you forgetting someone?"

"I was wondering when you would come down."

The herd was met by a mammal their senses had hereto disregarded. A thick accented badger dexterously made his way down the very mast they had not long been free from.

"I am Gupta, master of espionage-"

"Spi would disagree with that title," a voice piped in.

"Spi doesn't care what anyone calls himself, he has little time for such trifles," another corrected. Gupta resented his interruption, but masked it well, being keenly aware of presence and performance.

"I am Gupta, _master_ of espionage. The very sight of me strikes fear into the hearts of many. For when they see _me_, they know the might of the _Orlog_ is upon them. I too, serve as eyes for the ship. Spi and I work closely, and envy not each other."

The small beast strutted by, letting the white "flag" appearance of his strips upon his black fur impress the newest crewmembers. Sid pointed out the obvious.

"You do look like a flag!"

Gupta didn't mind, and whatever he said about envy began to be questioned by Manny as the badger soaked up all loose admiration. Like a sponge. Useful and satisfied when saturated, but wrinkled and ravenous when dry. _Don't forget him_, the mammoth noted. Manny and Diego both had been studying each introduction, sizing up the playing field with telling glances to each other. _Watch out for him, _or _Ahh, that's his weakness. _It now dawned on them how Gutt knew of everything they said, for it became obvious that Gupta rarely left the mast, enjoying the magnitude of being in high places. With so many sets of sense out to gather information, private conversation would be a rare commodity here. Exactly as it was intended to be by the ape that connived below deck, seeing nothing, yet seeing all. Like a great spider weaving webs in the darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's notes:** Hey I got the chance to update more quickly this time! I want to thank everyone once again for your reviews. I absolutely love hearing what you like most, or even what you don't like if that be the case. I love sharing this story with all of you and am honored that it is being well received. Special thanks to **Tigey Wigey, KaylaDestroyer, mwang, Stelzarinator**, and **AquilaTempestas**, who have been following this story from the beginning so far and continue to review as their time allows them. Thanks to **Lou** for all of your support and your fantastic artwork! Also thank you to recent reviewers such as **Goddess on a Highway, Zoe,** and **bon**. I hope all of you continue to enjoy the story. I am making an effort to update more quickly and give you longer chapters! The "meat" of the story will be picking up here soon...I feel almost bad that this story is still only on "day 2" basically, haha.

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Precious<strong>

Sid's stomach loudly announced its hunger as he surveyed the bounty that piled the front deck where Shira had been bathing herself. To the sloth's recently controlled diet just one fresh cluster of berries would have been bliss. But this, this was paradise. Fruits both exotic and familiar swayed gently the between the cool arms of the ship's icy railing. Bobbing before him like some victual apparition. The ocean breeze carried its salty sweetness to caress him and the sunlight glittered on dewy condensation. A myriad of sparkling, dancing color. Cool and delicious. Mindful of his duties, Sid moved himself to break the enchantment. He dove in.

His mouth bit into the first thing it could. It was tart and fleshy, sending dark trickles down his chin. He finished with only one additional bite. His favorite. As he turned to face the sky and lounge on his cornucopian bed his paw stuffed another fruit between his lips. This one was new. It was gold and pink like sunrise, soft and downy like the first moss on a spring morning. The juice was smooth, tropical, seeping from the tender, syrupy fruit. He ate it down to the red-rimmed pit, which he casually cast away. His eyes skipped cheerfully over to another morsel and a breathy sigh announced the sloth's rapture.

"Get off the food!"

"Wuh…?"

Sid took a moment to observe the useless efforts of Chip to drag him by the foot from the fruit bed.

"Haha! Give it up my long eared friend! Sid will get up when he's ready-OW!"

The rabbit grinned smugly from between Sid's clawed toes, twirling his sword. He hopped to the sloth's stomach, giving him a few more test pokes before leaning on his weapon. His full weight concentrated in the small point.

"You reek. Get off the food. I'd like to stab you, but it would be an insult to my blade."

He gave a final poke before bounding off.

"Sorry…he's a bit edgy. How about I help you with all this. Rations duty is usually my job." The welcomed figure of Tim now shaded the sun. "Psst…we don't really have to count all of it…just eye-ball it!" The seal emphatically pointed to one of his eyes, popping it out further than Sid thought possible. With this encouragement he began the tortuous chore of sorting and counting instead of eating and drinking in the heat he only now began to notice; and like what generally happens when you take note of something bothersome, it soon consumes your every attention.

A chuckle escaped an otherwise anxious tiger. Granny was awake but still strapped to the base of the mast. The _Orlog's_ crew appeared to be avoiding her as if she was a mess no one wanted to clean up. If you don't find it you don't have to be responsible for it. Fractured lines of her exasperated voice wafted up from below, riddled with insults and slanted with irritation. No wonder. She was in full sunlight. Starving no doubt. Sore. Old. _Whoa._ Diego's claws bit harder into the wooden edge of the boat's apex. He was on top. What Gupta referred to as the "crow's nest" before disappearing into the jungle of rigging that controlled the floating contraption. _I hate crows. _The saber had been ordered to relieve Gupta of his duties for the day. He could climb and felines had "keen vision." _Nice rationalization._ Diego felt stuck, being up here meant he no longer needed to be tied to the mast. He was just a captive without the ropes. The vessel's swinging motion was exaggerated at this height, a constant reminder that to be cocky might result in a hazardous drop with questionable prognosis. Even for a cat. If this factor had been absent, along with the underlying issue of his aquatic nemesis assailing the ship on all sides, Diego would have found his perch quite enjoyable. His dominant, territorial instinct craved the commanding view that elevation granted. He often spent hours surveying the valley of his home from favorite lookouts. A predator's acute shrewdness to threat and comfort in the vista of his haunt, put to good use for his sometimes appallingly shortsighted herbivore companions. A skill honed in youth, perfected in long months of solitude on his old pack's behalf.

Passing thought of his old habits brought the tigress to his musing. He didn't miss much up here. He could observe every happening on the decks below. She had not surfaced after slipping to a lower level at her first opportunity this morning. He doubted he would see much of her-at least in the near future. He saw plenty of the other pirates. "Attack Blubber" was squishing-oh attempting to "count"-fruit and other equally inedible foodstuffs with Sid, who was complaining as much as anything else. He seemed to be having fun despite himself though. "Jackassbit" had turned to help Manny on rear deck scrub the ship's aft to clear it of barnacles. Only after torturing the previously lounging sloth. The mammoth made no signs of interaction though the bunny spoke regularly and loudly. The tone was boastful. "Stupid Is" was continuously at it with the shell and file on main deck. Apparently deaf to Granny's tirade, as he was closest to the mast base. Located on the upper, front deck above the shelf of food "I Spi," Raz, and Gupta (Diego's nick-names had begun to loose steam) were clustered around the steering mechanism, talking navigation probably. Diego picked up on some tension between these characters, especially the bird and the badger. It was ephemerally defused as the Captain made a surprise appearance and plotted course himself for a time. He seemed uncommonly relaxed and joked with the nearby crew, preening and applauding himself. The boar, much to his displeasure at being so dismissed from Gutt's presence, was assigned the so far avoided task of freeing the old sloth.

The saber laughed again as Maggy thrashed her stick frantically at the beast, making his work of sawing the cords with his tusks twice as long and perilous as it needed to be. He probably sustained a black eye and several obscenities. Gutt and the luckier crew made cruel fun of the episode, brandishing their own weapons and shouting tasteless comments in the direction of Raz. They guffawed it off and swung appeasing arms over the shoulders of their injured partner as he made his way back to the bow in silent fury. Maggy, steered close to Sid in hopes of keeping her out of the way, was proceeding to take a trial bite of every fruit she came across, throwing it behind her in blind dissatisfaction. This time the victim, "Stupid Is" only blinked in airy surprise as his head became consistently pummeled every half-minute or so by the rejected fruit. He was unperturbed as his attempts to peacefully finish the scorned pieces were constantly interrupted by the violent arrival of more.

As the day drug on nothing evaded notice of the tiger. _Maybe I am the right guy for this job. _He was entertained by the amusing, confusing, and intriguing actions from the world of the decks, which he felt increasingly detached from. How these animals managed to stay on course amid the sea, absent of landmarks and with few scents baffled him and he spent some time attempting to reconcile all hew knew of land tracking and navigation with it. A moment of wooziness detracted from newfound comfort with his lofty perch. The "food" was close to finished being reorganized and rationed. His stomach grew weak as he watched. _What about food for me? What does Shira eat anyway? _He began to feel vulnerable and exposed. _Still captive. If anything goes wrong for my friends I won't be of much help up here. That's the point. _It was a long climb down. Couldn't be done too quickly by a mammal of his size. Granny, whether granted permission, sent purposely, or by wandering of her own accord, had toddled into the ship's bowels a little while ago. Diego's heartbeat quickened in unidentified warning as Gutt looked his way and gave a slapdash salute before melting into the abaft entrance to what the saber had gathered were sub-surface corridors.

* * *

><p>The cantankerous mood that had possessed Maggy immediately upon awakening lifted quickly once she found herself out of the heat and where she could vent undisturbed. She began preaching to no one in particular. Perhaps to her stick.<p>

"They do say that violence is more common in the summer or when it's hot! Blast it no wonder there! No relief! Why are we surprised that these hoodlums are so hell bent on stealing, and 'napping folk, and murderin'? It's the sun! Been shinin' too much I say! And look at them…all out in it all day! What they need is some shade! Some cold! That'll do the trick. Snap 'em right out of this vicious-this heat! Look what it's done to me! Well…that fellow deserved it anyway."

Her voice now more fully exhausted, she ambled deeper into the ship, resting every few yards against the cold sides of the dark. Her limited eyesight wasn't worried by the gloomy cavern, eyes becoming relaxed without the stinging of the sun. The sloth was accustomed to seeing through her crutch. Its wobbling taps echoed before her, guiding her without mishap further down the pathways than she had intended. The passage abruptly became less dim as a shard of light pierced the ceiling. Fine dust coasted in the beam, settling peacefully on the floor. The sound of raspy tools could be heard faintly. A microburst of dust burst through the crack as someone swept more shreds across it. Maggy coughed in disgust.

"Lazy sweep-creeper! I hope my sweet Sidney doesn't pick up too many bad habits here."

Even with the way temporarily illuminated the sloth's eyes still missed many details, including the recently wetted floor the shavings were not numerous enough to absorb. As her stick pressed forward it slid wildly, carving small scratches into the ice. Her whole existence struggled to regain footing. She crawled back, fur dripping, knees and elbows bruised. A shiver shook her as she regained her composure.

"As if my hips aren't bad enough!"

In taunting reply the traitorous walking stick, now slimed with a mixture of filmy grime, again deviated from its function, wedging itself between some rocks that bordered the corridor. Maggy waved her arms in habit, used to the staff firmly in her grasp to strike objects in such situations, impossible now because the staff was the object of her anger. It was stupid, she knew, to feel such wrath towards the thing. It was a stick. This was embarrassing, yet she was alone. Embarrassed all the same. This stick was her friend. Her long-time companion. Her security. The holder of her secrets. She wasn't alone.

"I'm sorry sticky. You know, that's not a nice name-"sticky." I'll call you "Precious." How's that? Better?" Her claws squeaked on the slippery wood as she tried to pull it free. "I'll have you outta here in a jiffy!"

Her stick cranked back and forth, unsettling the rock in the wall. In contrast to her aim the wood screwed further inside. She gave it a push in ultimatum.

"Fine! Go that way! See if I cares! I won't come after you!"

The rock buckled and caved. A shower of rubble flushed into a cavern, scraping the slick floors. Musty, dank air filled Maggy's nostrils and her coughing was punctuated by a gag. Precious must be buried now.

"I'm comin' deary!"

The rickety sloth clambered slowly over the rubble, her nose soon ignoring the smell. The chaotic air settled and a sickly light fell on the place. There was a platform in the middle of the room. A stone with crude markings and symbols. Cave drawings populated the walls and scribbles were etched onto every available surface. Carvings in wood planks. Coal marks on thin sheets of plant matter. Bowls crammed with powders and inky liquids. Tablets that bore unreadable messages of a woeful, coarse language. Some objects Maggy knew to be human, but some were stranger than human. Bones. Furs. Other, more dreadful items of the dead. Traps. Tools. Sharp, twisted scraps. All glistened with dull malice in the waxy yellow luminescence. A spot of dried blood leaked from under the table and tiny spatters decorated a portion of one wall. The aged sloth's own blood flowed chill in her veins. All of these images were warped to her sight, distorted in a terrible nightmare. She cowered in fright, half expecting the terrible things to come to life. Her eyes were drawn to one pocket of beauty in the cave. A shelf with smooth, colorful stones, an intricately woven basket, sandglass, a sand dollar. An assortment of jewelry hung limply over the side, as if it was disgraced by possessing beauty in such a place. Something inside Maggy drove her to creep closer. Her shaking paw reached out, touching an ornate necklace, its charms tinkling with a cheer that defied the countless horrors of the chamber. Without pausing to question her action, her trembling paw clasped firmly around the treasure. At that moment a shadow choked the wan light, blocked escape, and cackled with a mirthless glint that more than illuminated an unspoken danger to the hapless prey. As Maggy's claws gripped the ornament tighter in her sightless terror, so she too was grasped by that which inspired it.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note (just a quick one): Hello everyone! Sorry I meant to update this sooner, but with the holidays it's been a little crazy sometimes. Thank you all so much for your reviews, they mean a lot. I'm so glad you like the story (I've been working hard on it even though it wasn't updated as quickly as I would have liked). To anyone who has concerns about the characters names/genders I do apologize, and I do in fact know the correct names and so on...but it's a little late to change it now. I do plan on rewriting and updating the story at a later time, but for now it will have to do. I'm sorry if that bothers you. The reason I chose the names "Tim" and "Sheldon" is because I wanted to give a nod to Ice Age 3. ;)

Enjoy and thank you so much! More soon!

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><p>Chapter 10: Unexpected Connection<p>

"_Stars…_

_Are souls adrift,_

_Wandering the sky,_

_The night it tears them apart,_

_And yet it holds them near._

_Woven, in a Heaven with no rift,_

_As our lives are too-yet we cry,_

_For sorrow, finds us from the start._

_The cold wind whispers fear,_

_Always loss is near._

_Forget not:_

_Hope…-"_

Something cracked on loose ice.

"Oops…don't mind me. Please don't stop."

Shira whirled around, hackles stiff in surprise. She thought she had found solitude with the late hour. Her eyes squinted shut in what she hoped appeared as exasperation. None would see her tears.

"The last few lines escape me…"

A nervous chuckle displayed the sloth's own discomfort at finding the tigress awake…and singing. His eyes still lingered on an empty patch of sky, as if the lines from her song were hanging there. Still taking in the tune's simple beauty, the moving rise and fall of the notes, the pureness of the voice.

"Oh, I doubt that. You seem to have a good memory."

The sabers' eyes narrowed. _Is that supposed to be a compliment? Why would he compliment me? I take that back-I bet he would compliment anyone. _

"Why?"

"Well…you seem to remember disliking Diego well enough."

The sloth immediately realized he made a mistake as Shira stepped closer, her nose inches from his, her sabers glinting with moonlight, her eyes with threat.

"Don't push is sloth. There's nothing to remember." Her annoyance abruptly leapt inside to the threshold of fury. She wasn't sure where it came from, made no attempt to subdue it. "Why are we talking about me anyway? You're the one who lost someone!" The words came out menacingly, accusingly, as if it was somehow his fault…and as if she cared.

"I…I don't know. I've never felt so sad. Not even when my family abandoned me, and then Manny hated me, and Diego wanted to eat me…and when my family abandoned me again. I guess I shouldn't take it personally. Back then Manny didn't like anyone…and Diego wanted to eat everyone…and my family abandoned Granny too."

A connection. Not one she wanted to feel with the dense, fetid creature that had interrupted her glimpse at her own grief, but one that was present all the same. Abandoned. _Actually, I was a bit more than just abandoned. Order? Choice? Abandoned? Choice is the official story, but the truth is a bit deeper, a bit harder to understand, a bit more painful._ Today had given a sharp reminder of that.

* * *

><p>An angry howl declared Gutt's return to the top decks.<p>

"Is this how I'm repaid? I give you one rule. One! Stay out of my cabin!"

All eyes turned to the ape, all perplexed at the unwarned storm of his mood, all unable to predict his next move. Granny was shaking, withered in his grasp. Alternating prattling nonsense with demands for freedom as if her thoughts were running into each other to exit.

"He's crazy! Hey! Put me down! All traps and terrible words! That cabin could be a human cave! Don't squeeze me…no light! You could at least pick rocks that match your ugly table!"

"Let Granny go!" Sid raced forward, only to be toppled by a stray banana, which launched Sid backwards, and the fruit forwards. If it had been aimed it would not have hit Gutt more squarely in the nose, spattering his eyes with small slimy flecks. Automatically his free arm scratched to liberate his vision. His growls, first only aggravated, enraged as Maggy, still holding her staff, cracked it along his knuckles.

"Take _that_ banana breath!"

Shock at the audacity dropped the old sloth, but wrath picked her up and hurled her with all the madness of the Captian's boiling rage. Maggy flew across the deck, crashing into the mast before becoming entrapped in loose netting. Her stick skidded far, but not far enough. Gutt pursued it with manic enthusiasm as if he prized punishing it more than its wielder.

Commotion below. It took Diego a moment to register the scene playing out beneath him. _I have to get down there. Climbing will take too long to help. _The cat's head twisted to take in all options. _Jumping into the ropes will only cut them._ He had to jump to the smaller mast at the stern, from there the ice of the boat itself was high enough that he could leap down. His muscles tensed for the leap.

"I don't think pussycats were meant for flying."

Diego's eyes suddenly burned as the blue feet of a gull swooped in and gouged at them. The tiger swatted blindly, roaring with pain. His head ducked to parry further blows. Pricks in his left side and accented chuckles told him that Gupta had joined in-and was having fun apparently.

"Maybe the Captain will let me have you for a piñata! My birthday is coming up! Haha! What?"

For a half-second Spi's rasping cries and pale feet paused in their bombardment. He was probably rolling his eyes in response to his egocentric companion. Diego didn't care what it was. There was no running start. No cool calculation of the jump. Simply the need to see it through, get to his friends. He knew he could make it. He also knew that "could" is no guarantee, his senses were unsurprised when he began to fall. His target moved as the entire ship creaked, rocking with an unexpected force.

Manny's trunk was secured by a rope that had been frozen into an ice block, enough reign to work, enough weight to hold him back. His air supply cut off as he strained against it, determined to get to Sid and his grandmother. She was struggling with the net as Sid got to her.

"Granny! Granny calm down! I'm here-I'll get you out. Stop moving!"

"No! No! I'll get myself out! Sidney it's dark in here! Like that monkey cave…all nasty. Smelly. Fits 'im perfect!"

"Oh does it? Thank you for the quite flattering review of my modest abode."

Sid held the squirming mass of old net and sloth tight as the ape stood over them. He gulped as he offered an olive branch.

"She…could give your whole ship a glowing review I'm sure…hehe."

"Hmm…tempting offer. I have a counter proposition. I'll review this fabulous stick of hers."

"Precious! Precious! Get your filthy mitts off my fashion sense!" Maggy's wriggling became more frenzied. Eyes narrow and feisty. "Let me at 'im!"

"Fashion sense?" Gutt slapped his knee as he chortled. "Do you think the plank will make a good runway? I only have one word to say about your…twig. Broken." The wood was smashed in from the ends, splintering with a final crack. The powerful hands let it fall as easily as they had destroyed it. Without hesitation the ape shuffled over to his supplies, seeming to loose interest in the elderly sloth and her stick. Maggy fell forward as Sid let her go to the contorted remains of her only possession. She was silent. Huddled with it like a child in the cold. Shivering. Defeated. Her grandson slid down to join her, putting his arms around her shoulders and cooing comforting words. She had always been there to comfort him when he was small, but he felt useless in his attempts to return that consoling feeling, to make it all better. He couldn't. He began to sob as Maggy mumbled "Precious, Precious," without shedding a tear for her timber friend. Slowly her words were coming back to her. Whatever soothing things Sid had said she passed on to the stick, eventually crowning it with the necklace she had stolen from the dank cavern beneath them.

"There now Precious, you look so pretty. Much more stylish now."

She didn't pay any heed when the shadow of Gutt loomed over once more. He picked her up again, almost cradled her.

"Put her down!" Manny cried over the din of Sid's wails, the pirates on deck, and noise from the rigging. Diego was being attacked overhead.

"Shhh…" Gutt held a finger to his expressive lips, a façade of innocence, and a touch of annoyance. "You'll frighten the poor old girl." He gently carried her to the boat's side. An icy coracle waited, ropes ready to lower it into the sea. The ape placed her in the middle. "Let it not be said that Captain Gutt put undue stress on any wenches. Madame, you are relived from service here." Granny seemed unaware of the event unfolding around her. She was reunited with her stick. She was happy. _What a nice monkey. _Gutt began tumbling various fruits around her.

"Here now, we wouldn't want you to get hungry would we?" He stroked her thinning, purple fur. "There, there. Now, does Granny want a little vacation? Haha."

"Ooo…would I!" Maggy danced around with trusting delight. "Precious is coming too!"

"Oh yes."

Sid had ceased crying.

"Aww can we all go? I'm coming Granny!" He whipped his nose with a paw and dashed towards her before tripping on Gutt's outstretched foot.

"Sorry, only room for one."

Sid removed his face from the ice, stuck to his moist nose.

"No! Granny! Come to Sid!"

"No way! This is my first real vacation decades!"

The parting Manny knew he was about to witness cut to his foundations. Fortune wanted to tear them all apart. Not again. Not Granny. This horrible boat was better than the open ocean. It was dry, had food, water, shelter. Just to survive with the status quo until landfall could be made. Sid's grandmother was being set afloat on an ice slab with none of those things, save enough food to only prolong death, make his coming harder to bear. Maggy's blissful shock would fade to hunger, thirst, and burning. It would almost be better for her to wander off the ice and drown in her ignorance, never to meet the real enemies of a body at sea, the ones that make you beg to die. The cruelty of it all was her childish acceptance. Something in her mind broke with her staff. Gutt's meticulous nature saw this, changed tactics in a blink to capitalize this, gain all the entertainment he could. A sardonically gentle and doting method of sending an aged, mentally crippled lady to find her demise in the unforgiving waters. The mammoth felt his heart deaden. _No!_ He strained against the rope, couldn't breath. He told himself it didn't matter. His trunk curled around the knot and pulled.

"Shira!"

"Yes Captain?"

"You've been sneaking around all day. Well now I've got a job for you-lucky girl! Come here."

"Yes, Captain."

"Bite this rope."

Shira glanced sidelong at Sid, now entrapped between Tim's flippers and making unidentifiable blubbering sounds. Tim was sobbing right along with him, using Sid's arm to clean his face, even as Sid used Tim as a living nose wipe. Through all the snot and tears she could see the sloth's eyes. The eyes of a creature who knows they are about to lose someone, someone they love-even if that love was never altogether understood or appreciated. The universal language that is seen through those tiny windows of us all.

"Shira! Bite it!"

A crashing sound was driven out of the mast, forcing the ship into an unplanned angle. The mammoth had hurled the block of ice meant to control him, fracturing the mast. A second disruption came from upper skeleton of the ship. Rigging was slithering down from the heights-cut?

Manny wasn't thoroughly proud of his throw, but there was little way to control it. It sent a message. All he could really take in at the moment was breath. Gutt stood to full height, choosing to ignore the chaos around though it greatly disturbed him. He glowered at the hesitance of the tiger before him. He mouthed his order a final time. She glanced overboard, conflicted, scared, then steeled. She bit the cord. An instant before Manny caught Maggy's giddy grin and the jingling of his charm necklace around the battered shaft of "Precious." An instant later Gutt's interest had turned to him.

The other pirates were simply laughing. Well, most of them. Sheldon was hiding in the food, and Tim was still crying. Spi and Gupta had now joined the rest of the crew on deck, were standing over a recumbent Diego. Gutt's laugh was angry and menacing as he strolled towards Manny. Shira dared a look down to the sea. The sloth was being swept away even faster than she had expected. _Please be in the right current._ She felt like wrenching. Never had she been a part of so monstrous a deed, even if she had tried to fix it. She was cold, no feeling other than nausea at the sickening sweetness of the execution Gutt had concocted on a whim. She had been part of it. Whatever his aim was with these animals, it was driving a newfound creativity that burned in the darkest part of his being. Shira reeled at the horror of what it might ask of her, the horror of what she might become. Why did it take this shock to see from the outside in? She was always in the small comfort of her heart, seeing herself and others from its safety. Now it was slipping away in the numbness of the truth, the deadness overrunning her spirit-her survival of all the bitterness, all the sorrow she carried, much of it not even hers. Maybe it is the only way to survive it all. _Maybe this is what it felt like to be…no!_

* * *

><p>"How do I know she's alive? How do I know she's ok? I can't, I can't!" More screams in the night echoed in the cave. Sobs. Shira didn't like to hear them.<p>

"Soto?"

"Mmmff…yeah?" Her brother rolled over to face her.

"Can I sleep closer to you?"

"Sure kitty."

She crawled to his side, snuggled into his longer fur. The calmness of his heartbeat slowed hers. Her mother's heartbeat was never soft anymore. Always racing, frantic. Another wail sent a strange sensation through Shira's body and she tried not to cry.

"Will she ever be better?"

"Of course she will…don't let father know that you heard. It would make him sad. He only has room to worry for one."

Perhaps Soto was right, but he had a way of always making things out to be better than they actually were. Maybe he would have been more comforting if he was fully awake. His eleven seasons made him seem mature to Shira's five. That and the trust of a sort only siblings can have. Built on reassurances in the dark. Still, she didn't like the way her mother looked at her now. Her eyes now possessed a hollow madness, devoid of the love she once knew, or that she thought she knew.

* * *

><p>"Your name is Sid, right?"<p>

He sighed in the affirmative. Shira wanted to tell him how sorry she was. She wanted to tell him that she had delayed severing the fatal cord until the ship had drifted over a current, a current that would just give his grandmother a chance. Something in her couldn't. Not yet. So she listened as he listed his favorite things about his thrice lost family member, which bled into tales of his other adventures, some of them actually impressive if they were true. The sabress didn't want to talk to this strange creature she had so hurt today, who seemed to be forgiving her through his conversation. Yet she would not forgive herself. So she listened to him. It was a step in the right direction, an unexpected connection.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note:** First of all, I'm terribly sorry for this story's dormancy to anyone who has been waiting for an update. Life gets crazy sometimes as we all know and sometimes you need a little break. I was also struggling a little as this story was meant to be finished (Haha) before the 4th movie was released, so it is obviously a bit "AU" now as the saying goes. Whatever! Here is another chapter to get started again and thank you all for your patience, I hope you've had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's.

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><p>Chapter 11: Senses<p>

_Am I…swaying?_ _Of course I am. I'm still on that blasted boat._ That wasn't quite it though. Not the whole of it. There was an additional layer to this motion, this swinging suspension. Diego groaned as he tried to rotate his aching body. He couldn't. The tiger's eyes opened heavily, barely taking in the empty chamber about him. Pale light seeped through a thinned layer of ice along one wall, creating a translucent window. It was daylight. He was firmly, yet gently wrapped in a seaweed bed. The sharp pain in his ribs told him it was more likely a matter of healing than punishment. The ship's already unpredictable movement was troublesome enough for the saber to grow accustomed to, the constant rocking of his bed was unbearable. He imagined that upon first being placed there that the motion was comforting to his broken, barely conscious body and mind. He could recall distant dreams of a shadowy presence. Wanting to escape from a cold lullaby that grunted and sputtered, rather than sang, of blood and cracking bones. Icy fingers enfolded him within soft restraints as the voice rose, and they tightened the knots as the voice fell. A foul liquid slid down his throat and he was left to fitful sleep, what most would call nightmares, but such dreams Diego would not admit to. At that time the soft sway of his harness helped him evade the unpleasantness of the situation. Now it held him to it. He could barely turn his head and no motion of his actual body was permitted, except for twitching his toes. The small actions of stretching his paws and retracting his claws only served to irritate himself further as he itched for freedom.

With another groan he resigned himself to the wait. Wait for what? Anything. He tried to keep his thoughts from running, hunting. He was beginning to lose track of how long it was been since his last hunt. When he last felt something solid under his paws, dirt in his toes, the burn of a good run. No. Seafaring is not the ideal life for a tiger.

* * *

><p>Two young sabers crouched at the end of a clearing, one with obviously serious design, and the other in a more frolicsome state. A gazelle tromps through fallen branches, nipping the last of the good berries from the foliage usually out of his reach.<p>

"He sounds nice and fat!"

"Quiet, Sen."

"Wait, my whispering is louder than you breaking every twig and scraping your claws on every rock? Are we hunting?"

"_I_ am. Shut-up."

"Here's a hint, try _retracting_ your claws. Stop looking at him, I know you are."

"Sen, not looking at him won't help me catch him. Stop talking."

"Have you ever tried?"

Diego made an inaudible grumble. He could tell his prey was on alert now by the prick of his ears and the stiffness in his muscles. He could see it with his eyes, but he knew that his half brother, Sensus, could hear it in the quickening breath and irregular, clipped hoof falls. Diego's own muscles constricted as he prepared for a leap. His toes curled, grating his claws through the earth. Too soon. The gazelle retreated, the tiger springing after him and giving chase. Sabers are not meant for long distance runs, and leaping prematurely only gives the quarry more than a fair chance at escape. Diego had soon sprinted himself out. His body shook as the last of its vigor was expended in merely keeping his balance. _What a waste_. His eyes strained and mouth watered as the gazelle effortlessly leapt into the tree line.

Sensus quickly caught up.

"I could have told you he was still too far away. You let your sight trick you."

"What do you know about it?"

"Hmm, well I know what I can do without it."

Spite was beginning to bring some drained energy back to Diego's command.

"Can you catch me?" He began running rough circles, varying in angle and distance, around the other saber, attempting to confuse him with a deliberate pelting of snow kicked from his back paws. His laugh was soon cut short as his face was pressed deep into a snow bank, his brother's weight pinning him.

"The snow was your biggest mistake, but I could have got you anyway. Thanks." The younger, tawnier tiger released his comrade.

Half of Diego wanted to be irritated at the spunk and innocence gazing blankly, yet contentedly into his face. His lighter half was won over by the unseeing grey eyes that he knew would follow him anywhere, yet could always teach him a lesson. There are senses more powerful than what you can see.

"If you were quieter on the hunt, father would be significantly more impressed."

"I don't care about impressing him."

"You care about actually catching something, don't you?"

The mention of their father put a shadow on the venture. They would return without anything this evening. Most young would fear for themselves, but these two were growing old enough to know that it was their mother they should fear for. Soar would blame his son's lack of success on his mate, Martah, say is was her inadequate training, even though he was equally responsible for it. He would blame everyone but himself-just as Diego blamed both the gazelle and Sensus for his own inability to refine his hunting skills. Diego hated when he saw his father in himself.

"There is still a little sunlight left. Perhaps you should try now, we might have better luck. I can work more later." As unorthodox as Sen's hunt methods were, evolved around his handicap, Diego knew they were superior to that of many sabers, even if he was forever barred from real hunts and pack positions. It was worth a try. Anything was, anything that lessoned the rage in their father's eyes, and the subsequent pain in their mother's.

* * *

><p>It was growing dim again in his chamber when Diego woke again, to the soft noise of someone entering. It was Shira. Given his immobility, the tiger was unsure whether to be glad or afraid of the company. He then noticed the glittering of several fish swaying from her mouth as she strolled towards him.<p>

"Where are Sid, and Manny…and Granny?" It sounded strange for him to croak worries over Sid's grandmother, but he wasn't going to take it back. After all, that was why he lay here now, no sense in trying to hide that. Shira already knew. The tigress let the fish fall so she should answer.

"Sid wanted to come down to make a fire for you, but Raz forbid it. The ice down here isn't nearly as resistant to melting." She looked at her paws as she spoke, avoiding Diego's eyes for the first time since they met. "Manny is fine too, though more stubborn than what is good for him."

"Granny?"

"I think she is ok."

"What do you mean, you _think_?"

"I don't know."

"What happened to her?"

"Gutt sent her overboard…she had food. I think she should survive until the current brings her ashore. I'm sorry. I did what I could."

"Why do you care?"

"I know what it feels like to lose your family."

"Don't we all."

Shira bristled, began to turn. She glanced to the fish on the floor, far out of reach for Diego's immobilized subsistence.

"Shall I leave those there?"

The male tiger's gaze weakened as it dropped to the food. His stomach made a more obvious answer. He hated fish, but he was learning that his options at sea were not overgenerous. Shira gingerly picked one up by the tail and held it close to his mouth, muffling her decision.

"You haven't eaten in days and apparently we need you _alive_."

"You have a way to saying "alive" as if you wish I wasn't."

"It's a gift."

As Diego softly munched on the opposite end of the fish Shira held for him, the discomfort of the situation amplified. The activity of feeding in such a manner among sabers was considered…_intimate_, utterly adverse to the actual feelings of the two individuals at the moment. However, as Shira's mouth was drawn closer and their eyes caught each other's more often, Diego could not help entertaining the feelings such a moment was meant to evoke. The combination of hormones, boredom, and frustration at being unable to feed himself provoked his mind to mischief. Shira, obviously wishing to stay as far away as possible, began to pull away with the tail of the fish, but paused as Diego reached up for a final bite. Instead he delicately licked a few scales from her cheek. She reeled back as she hissed and swatted at him, ears flat and eyes wide. He chuckled.

"Hmmm…you taste like fish."

Shira, now surprisingly calm, returned with a new fish and a strange glint in her eye.

"Want some more?"

Diego opened his mouth suspiciously. She slowly drooped it closer, and then let it fall, laughing as Diego coughed to get the asphyxiating morsel from his throat.

"At least I don't choke on my own jokes."

In a rare concession, he gave no retort as he spit the fish back to the floor and listened to the smug giggles of revenge. However, her mirth was drowned by an abrupt jolt of the ship and the foreboding rumble of the depths underneath it. The sea would have the last laugh.


End file.
